And Curiosity Leads to
by Shini-neko-chan
Summary: How odd is it for the Amell estate to be quiet and dark all the time? The answer is usually never.  Set around year five-ish in Kirkwall.  M!Hawke/Fenris
1. Chapter 1

AN: I'm sure you can all realize that I have been away from fiction WRITING for awhile. But, to try to make up for that, I'm trying something new. Hopefully this will get a good review or two, and that means more will come :D

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><p>It was rare when the estate was quiet. Even rarer still when the lights were out. But it had been so for the past couple of nights and Fenris was starting to get curious. Hawke had been postponing their reading lessons now for a week, and despite all his efforts to actually get in without being caught during the day, that damn rogue had always managed to grab him around the waist and drag him off, insisting on getting something from the market. It was getting maddening to say the very least. And today was no exception to the rule. As he started to open the door he was always welcome in, it was yanked from his hand and there was suddenly a lean muscled body barring his entrance.<p>

"Hawke..." There was a warning tone in his voice as his arms crossed over his slim chest. At the very least, he wanted to browse the other man's library again to see if he could practice reading alone.

"Fenris, what a wonderful surprise! I was just about to come looking for you!" Strong, gloved hands spun the elf around effortlessly and started gently pushing him away from the estate and toward the Hightown Market, despite the odd sound from the building they were leaving behind.

"I'm sure you were," he muttered, rolling his shoulders to get them out of the other's grip as he shifted to the side to walk beside him instead. His curiosity was starting to get the better of him and he didn't know how long he'd let Hawke continue to manhandle him this way.

"I was! Really! I was told the exact time someone would be done baking and we're going to get some of what they're baking!" The cheerful, often sarcastic voice of the taller male made Fenris's shoulders round out a little and he gave up his idea of breaking into the mansion yet again. At least for today.

"Fine...but you're buying me a book." Giving him a sidelong glance, one brow raised, he was met with a cheerful, willing smile. Nodding just a bit, he looked around the market to try and find out just what Hawke was going to be buying him and came up with a loss. All he could see were the usual merchants. Hubert of the 'fine goods' as he called them, which were really just an expensive version of the shop's next door, the weaponry, the armory, and the slightly controversial robe shop that Jean Luc ran that was really just a stone's throw away from the chantry itself were all he could see, at least until the massive red-clad chest stopped him from moving.

"Stay, right here, okay?" Somehow the enthusiastic grin on the human's face made Fenris nod just a small bit, and he watched as Hawke sprinted away from him and up a set of stairs to disappear around a corner. It still amazed him how such a large man could be so light on his feet, and so gentle in touch.

But that wasn't what he wanted to think about right now. He didn't need to remember the hours spent with Hawke just a few nights after Hadriana's death, didn't need to think about how he craved each and every brush of the other's skin against his own. It terrified him, how much he wanted, and it wasn't going away, anytime soon. He was quickly coming to realize that the only thing that would make this urge go away was to be with the other man again, but that, too, scared him like nothing else.

Scared him, because he realized that it wouldn't be enough. Nothing would be enough unless he stayed with him.

He was abruptly startled from his thoughts as something steaming was lowered down in front of him, the arm under it showing the rogue had once again gotten behind him without his knowledge. The smell of cinnamoned apples made his mouth water almost immediately and he gazed at the pie in Hawke's hand almost longingly. "...I do not think this is going to last very long," he murmured, gaining a soft laugh right next to his ear that caused a tremble to run up his spine. Lifting both hands, he took it by the edges and gracefully turned and backed away from the rogue at the same time. "Let's go to the mansion then...so we may enjoy it."

Hawke's grin was nearly his undoing, and he nearly lost the pie as the other man slung an arm around his shoulders so they could walk back to Fenris's mansion instead. His curiosity could wait another few hours surely, and then he would find out just what they were up to that they were keeping him from.

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><p>Good, bad, indifferent? Let me know! :D Reviews make me happy<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Surprise~

Today he was determined. He didn't care what antics Hawke showed up with-he was going to get into that damn estate. And that was the entire reason he was creeping around right at dusk on the night of a new moon. Granted, Hawke was better at creeping than he was, but if he stuck to the shadows, you almost didn't see him.

Once again, the estate was dark. A soft scuffle made Fenris pause, waiting to see if someone was coming out or not. When no one appeared, he crept along the wall toward the door again, sinking into the shadows as he tried to twist the knob. When the door gently fell open without a squeak, he frowned. He knew Hawke was home. He'd watched the man go back after they'd spent time at the Hanged Man with Varric merely three hours ago, and then had watched for him coming back. And yet, there were no candles lit, only the soft glow from the fireplace gave any illumination, and that was dimmer than he was used to because Bodahn had apparently not stirred it up.

Slipping into the foyer, out of habit, he scuffed his feet on the rug placed there especially to get dirt from them, then edged around toward the next room. The dim lighting was not helping his eyes at all, but he could see something that looked like a banner hanging from the railing just outside of Hawke's room. In an effort to see what it was, he crept to the middle of the room, green eyes squinting just a little.

Then, he was blinded and half-deafened.

"SURPRISE!"

Candles were lit at once by a mage-fire that sent electricity along his markings briefly, though their light paled from his own glow. His hand was half-way to his sword before the blade was dragged quickly away from him. He whirled around to find Sebastian setting it up in a corner, and suddenly there was a Hawke draped on his shoulders and smooching, yes, smooching, not kissing, his cheek loudly. "Happy Anniversary!"

"Anniversary for what? What is this nonsense!" Fenris's voice was little more than a growl as he tried, unsuccessfully, to stop the rogue from hanging on him. At least, instinctively, he realized that there was no danger, and his own glow was fading.

"Five years since we met, of course. Though why he planned a party for it is beyond me." As everyone, literally, everyone, gathered downstairs to pat him on the back (Varric, Aveline, and Sebastian) or hug him (Merrill and Isabela, who added a generous squeeze to his buns), Anders stayed leaning against the stair railing. Fenris could easily understand at least that mage's reaction to staying away from him. They'd been at odds from day one, and it had only gotten worse since the time of Hadriana's death. Sometimes, he wondered if Hawke himself was the reason, as Anders often glared most heatedly after the rogue was familiar with him.

Shaking that off though, he ducked to get away from all the attention and finally read the banner. A simple "Happy to have you with us!" was scrawled on it, likely by Isabela or Merrill, because he could easily attest that Hawke and Aveline's writing was horrendous. He couldn't see Varric doing it at all, and there was little hope of Anders getting involved. The flowy script just suggested a female anyway, and he silently, once again, thanked Hawke for the reading lessons that allowed him to understand what it said.

He was pulled from his thoughts when someone put a mug of something steaming in his hand and he allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips. "Thank you." It was as much for the drink as it was for the sentiment and he sipped at the hot ale tentatively. At once, there was a lot of conversation around him, and he further relaxed as it drifted to general things. Varric was heard telling a story to Merrill, who, by her widened eyes, was believing every bit of it. Aveline was discussing some plan to drag Hawke off into the Wounded Coast to take care of bandits and the rogue was doing his best to seemingly run away from the conversation. Sebastian had moved to Anders's side and was trying to talk to him about...something. He couldn't really understand what, but then again, he was more concerned over the cleavage pressing around his arm. Dissuading Isabela was never an easy task, and he ended up walking away, but having her follow and whispering lewd suggestions in his ear. It was when she nibbled on the elongated tip that he finally jerked away from her and quickly made his way to one of the other groupings. A glance showed him that she had easily slid over and was groping Merrill to the Dalish girl's squeaks, and he silently welcomed them to it so he didn't have to deal with her.

Looking back to Hawke as he found his way to his side, he raised one brow. "So tell me something...just how long have you been planning this?" Obviously for awhile, if the darkened house said anything, and some of the glittering things around htem suggested that the mages, at the very least, had put a lot of effort into making the house look celebratory.

"Ah...had to have been the first day I didn't let you in..?" The sheepish grin on the human's face made Fenris chuckle and shake his head. He should have known something was up, but he couldn't have ever guessed it was something like this.

"I suppose I can forgive you then, for dragging me around and never telling me what was going on," he mused, once again taking a sip of the ale. He supposed it was nice to have people care for you so much that didn't expect anything from you. He supposed that this was what it was to have friends. It wasn't something he was used to, and he certainly wasn't going to push them away.

After all, they had helped him with Hadriana, even if he hadn't wanted to see anyone after it. But then there was Hawke...who could get under your skin even without trying. The charming smile and often sarcastic responses to things only made him more endearing, and as he smiled at an offer from Aveline, he once again regretted leaving him as he did. Perhaps soon, they could try again.

His internal musings were cut short as the lights went out again, including the fire that Bodahn had been tending. He heard someone ask Merrill and Anders if they were playing tricks again, but somehow he knew it was wrong. There was a chill to this magic, one he knew well, and as he started to turn toward Hawke to say something, all he knew was blackness.

All the others heard was the sound of his mug of ale shattering on the floor. When the lights returned, Fenris was gone.

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><p>Reviews are always welcome :D Hopefully later chapters will be longer...<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

AN: So I know so far, most of this has been from Fenris's pov (vaguely), so I feel I should warn you that I might eventually be switching. Can't exactly have things happen with no preamble and things like that, right? That said, thank you for the lovely reviews and story alerts! You all make my day by giving me that much :D

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><p>Reunion<p>

It was cold. That was the first thought he had on waking. It was cold, and somehow, he was rocking with the motion of...was it wood beneath him? Eyes opened just a little to reveal the barest hint of green. It was indeed wood, and there was a shackle on the wrist closest to his face. There was something glowing on the shackle and as he studied it, he became aware of things other than just the cold.

His armor was gone. Hell, most of his clothing was gone. There were Iron poles at the end of the wood, leading up to an iron roof. So he was in a cage. That didn't bode well. Nor did the rhythmic clopping of hooves on hard dirt. Giving up on the illusion that he was still out, he pushed himself up on his hands to look at where they were. It seemed as if they were heading down mountains, and, if judging the sun's position was anything, perhaps they were the Vimmark Mountains, north of Kirkwall. It was still the dead of night, but the magelights floating around them lit up the area quite well. Well enough that he could see everyone around him at least. Many men in Tevinter styled robes.

That alone made him stifle a growl. He was taken right from Hawke's home by these bastards, and knocked out magically, he'd wager, since he felt no headache from the effects. Each Mage surrounding him looked fairly young, but there was one older with a full beard further up. When one of the four vanguards noticed him sitting up, he kicked his horse to make it catch up with the elder one. Despite how excellent his hearing was, he couldn't hear what was said, but both turned their horses to come back to his prison. "Danarius..." The magister's name was merely a growl, and he was satisfied to see the vanguard that was still on the same side flinch a little at his tone.

"Fenris, what a nice surprise to see you awake. I wasn't expecting that until Hasmal." The magister was very pleased to see him indeed and even went so far as to come very close to the bars.

He had to try, despite the odd cuffs on his ankles and wrists, and even his neck. Lyrium flared for a brief second before he all but collapsed in pain, the glow on the cuffs intensifying before he stopped trying to go through the bars. There it was, that same mocking laugh as he curled tightly into himself. He could only pride himself on not crying out.

"I would suggest you don't try that again, my little wolf. We put a lot of effort to make those especially for you to make sure you couldn't get out of your little home there." The smirk on Danarius's lips left little doubt that he was pleased that Fenris couldn't get out at all. "Don't worry pet, we won't take very long to get home at all. I'm sure you remember that Tevinter horses are bred for long trips like this." And that was all. Danarius was leaving the cage side and Fenris could only say he was glad for it.

The mind-numbing pain was slow to dissipitate and when he felt well enough to move, he did, uncurling to sit up a little. He was even more sure that they were leaving the Vinmark mountains based on the destination alone, and the only part of him that was glad for it was the part that kept chanting, "cold cold cold cold," in his head. But that was little wonder, considering all he was wearing was his smalls.

Isabela would have probably laughed to finally know they were just a plain white and the thought of the lady pirate made him draw his knees to his chest to rest his chin on them. He would get back to see all of them again, but he had to play this right in order to do so. If it meant once again kowtowing to Danarius, then so be it. He would have his opportunity to kill the bastard, and then he wouldn't have to deal with him ever again.

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><p>Chaos. In a word, that's what it was. From the moment the lights went out, Hawke was sure that it was a prank from Anders. After all, the mage hadn't really been fond of this entire idea and this certainly would have been one way to show his disapproval. Then there was glass shattering, a rush of cold right next to him where Fenris had been at his side, and the lights had been back on before he could even turn around or let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Out of habit he stepped back from the ale that threatened his fur-lined boots as he looked for two elves in the room. Merrill was still by the fireplace, looking at the flames oddly because they had guttered themselves and reappeared with no help, but Fenris was nowhere to be seen. And he was sure that it wasn't by his own choice.<p>

Everything took just a few seconds, then everyone was talking at once. Once or twice he heard people saying that it wasn't a funny trick to Anders, but his eyes remained on the shattered glass of rapidly cooling ale on the floor. It didn't take much for the accusations and quick rebuttal of them to grow to a roar in his head and he snapped. "Quiet! Where is Fenris?"

That brought silence quicker than he liked. No one knew, but he was starting to get an inkling. Looking around the room, there was definite confusion on the faces of most of them, though Aveline looked more pissed off than angry. He couldn't blame her really. They had been standing right next to him and he was taken right from under their noses. As the others gathered around, he kept his eyes on the ale. "Varric, Isabela, see what you can find about anyone new in the city. You two have the best network."

"Of course." Varric turned and left immediately, heading for the Hanged Man again, no doubt.

Isabela gave a jaunty salute and almost skipped out after. He didn't want to know how she got her information, or who she slept with to get it, but hopefully they'd both come back with something good.

"Aveline-"

"You don't have to tell me twice Hawke." The guard-captain took her leave briskly, ready to send out her guards to see if they could catch whoever had taken Fenris before they left the city.

And so he was left with two mages and an archer. Sebastian was rubbing his eyes a little, no doubt still having problems adjusting them, and Anders looked about like he had before this had happened, arms folded and leaning on the banister. It was about then that he felt a tiny tug on his arm. Looking down, he lifted a brow at Merrill. It wasn't that he thought she couldn't help in finding him, but she was more useful in a fight than trying to get information.

"I..don't know if this is relevant or maybe it is and you would know better than I do..." Merrill almost squeaked at the almost impatient look it garnered from her very brief rambling. "Blood magic!"

"...what about blood magic, Merrill?" It took every bit of effort to shake her by the shoulders to make her speak faster.

"Somewhere...close. It was used tonight. I don't know if it makes any difference at all but I thought you should know." Small fingers gripped his arm tighter. She only knew the basics about Fenris's past but knew that his former master had used blood magic.

Hawke's lips thinned at the revelation. "Thank you Merrill." The small mage nodded and almost scampered out to see if she could locate where it had happened.

"Don't tell me we're planning to go after him if he gets out of Kirkwall." Anders voice was low, and as Hawke turned to look at him, he recognized the slightly defensive stance the other had taken.

"Yes, we are planning to Anders, thank you for showing you'd rather not be a part of the effort." There was a hard edge to his voice as he looked at the mage and then Sebastian as he frowned.

"Don't be silly. Even with their differences, I'm sure Anders will join us." The archer's unwavering faith was almost heartening, but Hawke shook his head. He knew better. Knew Anders almost despised Fenris for the single night the two of them had shared.

"Let yourselves out...I have to tell mother that I'll likely be going on a trip soon away from Kirkwall." Without waiting for an answer, he moved around the stairwell they were still next to to go to his mother's room. He heard them taking their leave, heard Orana moving into the room almost silently behind them to take care of the mess left behind. He only knocked once before going in to speak with her.

He accepted that she didn't want her last living child dying in some random place with no one to tell her, accepted the hug and her tears. She knew he had to do this. She knew that the elf that rarely smiled had single-handedly reached in and taken hold of her son's heart and wouldn't let it go, even if he wasn't aware he had it.

When Hawke stood up with a wan smile, she also knew she would see him again. And that's when he left her. He had preparations to do of course, just in case they had to leave the city, and that included but was not limited to putting on all the little daggers and hidden blades that were coated in poison. Even Isabela had wondered once how he could hide so many and not stab himself. He'd just laughed.

Even though he knew it was pointless, he still headed downstairs to go out himself. It would take a couple of days, at best, for anyone's information networks to get back to him, and he could only hope that they could find something sooner. For Fenris's sake.

Four hours later, he was forced to admit temporary defeat as running rooftops was getting to be too dangerous even for him. The rain that had been threatening their celebration had finally started coming down, and in torrents at that. After nearly falling off one roof in upper hightown on his third pass, he gave in and said that he would be no help to Fenris if he had a busted leg or something when he came to get him. And it wasn't an if, it was a when. Because there was no way he wouldn't.

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><p>Fenris dozed off in their travels, only for a little bit. He had no idea how long they'd been traveling really, but the only consistent part was the cold. It was precisely why he was curled up in the middle of his cage and shivering despite sleeping a little. He was only vaguely aware of a changing of his guards and a brief stop as Danarius disappeared from view. It seemed like they weren't going to stop even for resting, and it wasn't surprising at all. He was also positive that they'd given the horses something to make them move faster and not get tired. It was the only explanation he had for the distance they'd covered because he was sure that he hadn't been out that long.<p>

The countryside had changed from mountains to endless plains, so he figured they were in the Wildervale. Resting one cheek against the bars, he wondered if the others were even looking for him already. He had vague hopes for it, but then again, he wondered if they wouldn't write him off as well. He hadn't exactly been the best of friends with any of them, more out of the want to not be hurt if they were lost to battle or some other thing.

Heaving a soft sigh, he shifted away from the bars as water hit him on the cheek. He was sure Danarius had all sorts of torture planned for him for leaving and he didn't think being sick on top of it was going to help. A very small part of him had a vague hope that getting to Hasmal might mean he'd at least get some sort of clothing or a blanket. Then again, at least it would be warmer north of the Minanter River. Small blessings in a hell. A hell that he had already resigned himself to, at least until he could try to get free.

AN: I...am not happy with this chapter. Review it and tell me what you think ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Here we go again. Warnings this time people. A bit of torture is involved. Also, a distasteful (to me) point of view in here. But it had to be done. Also..apparently people were having problems viewing this. So hopefully deleting and reupping it will help Stupid thing.

To new reviewers! kdarnell2: I made it longer lol. I still don't think you have the resolution you want though. IriaMo: I'm glad you're enjoying it ^^ Hope you enjoy this one, even with the previous warning

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><p><strong>Master and Slave<strong>

Even with the horses never tiring, and moving faster than usual, it took them four days. Four days of bitterly cold nights. He shouldn't have been surprised that there was no respite for the chill for him. After all, why bother with a slave's health in traveling when you could easily just have a healer take care of it when you got back? By the time he was pushed into one of Danarius's labs by one of the magister's guards, he was pale, shivering, and sniffling quite a bit. Still, he had to pride himself on not saying a word. Even when he dropped to one knee and skinned it, his only sound was a grunt.

He stayed as he was to attempt to dispel the dizziness that plagued him. Hasmal was perhaps where he had realized that the lack of proper clothing was going to be his undoing. He'd been coughing a little, though everytime Danarius had come back to talk at him, he hadn't said anything or given any indication that he was anything other than perfect. He also hadn't met the other's eyes. From Hasmal, they'd gone over the silent plains, and his pathetic sounds of being sick had truly been the only sounds that had rang over the short procession. A small stop in Solas had restocked them with fresh food for the rest of the trip, and then they'd been on the Imperial Highway for the rest of the trip to Minrathous. He could easily remember seeing several mages looking down on him as they went through the city, and all it did was make him miserable. He was sure Danarius loved it.

As he heard the man walk in behind him, he stayed where he was. Lifting his hands seemed like an impossibility, even if he wanted to swing the manacles around to knock him out. They felt too heavy, and he knew that was exactly the reason Danarius had left him freezing at night. Far better for his pet project to be weak when he chose to use him again.

"I'd prefer if you didn't damage yourself needlessly. You need to look good for our parties." There was a harsh grip in his hair as he was dragged to his feet, and a soft hiss escaped him as he was yanked over to a table he only remembered waking up on once. He tried to pull away, but it only left the grip on his hair tighter as he was shoved onto it, face first. "Stop resisting and this will be much easier on both of us." He didn't remember him having this much strength as he was manhandled, and he felt more hands on him as his arms and legs were stretched out and bound to the table. It didn't stop him from trying to get free, and despite it being weak, he took pleasure in slamming his fist into one of the other's jaw and hearing a distinct crack. Then he was the one to feel the same thing as the guard on his other side returned the favor. Somehow the pain just didn't really register, and he was detached from it as the bones of his jaw ground together, and further removed as he watched the guard that struck him get incinerated on the spot for daring to touch him. Then his eyes slipped shut as he heard Danarius shouting for the healer to get in there to fix the mess he'd been made. Dimly, he felt his other hand shackled, then he didn't feel anything else. There was a blessed darkness that claimed him.

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><p>Hawke was pacing near the animals they'd had the Dalish help them with. It had taken too long already for him. All the leads they had seemed to point to Danarius coming for Fenris, and the more time it took them to follow meant there was more time for the magister to do unspeakable things to him. He finally saw pure white armor coming from the fog that had descended on Kirkwall. By his side was the unmistakable fluff of feathers and he sighed softly in relief as he realized that Anders was indeed coming with him. At least if Danarius had done something, the healer would be able to help.<p>

But he was still impatient. Even as Isabela and Merrill made their appearance, he wasn't happy. They still had to get the halla ready to move with them and their packs, and he silently told himself that they would be getting horses just as soon as they could. Thankfully, Aether could run alongside his own mount, since the dog was fast. He'd been unable to keep the dog in the house, down to him even breaking a window to get out. Apparently, that one night had made him take a liking to Fenris and the mabari now missed him. When they finally did set out, it was almost fitting that rain was falling like a mist. They were a silent promenade as they started out in a north-easterly direction. Varric had told them to try to get to the Imperial Highway as soon as possible, and that's exactly what he intended to do. There were cities and towns along it for the entire way, so changing up their mounts wouldn't take long at all.

For once, he wasn't leading. Merrill knew the mountains better than any of them, so she was taking point, with Anders and Sebastian following closely. The three of them had traveled more than the others through the area and he let his halla just follow them. Thankfully, since they were pack animals, the desire to stay with others of their kind was taken from them. Merrill was on their leader, and he had firmly taken control of the other's minds so they didn't bolt at the sight of humans. This also left Hawke plenty of time to devise ways of killing the magister if they got their hands on him. He didn't care if Fenris wanted the last blow for himself at this point. He'd take it for himself and make sure the man suffered.

He was pulled from his silent musings at the sound of very quiet laughter and he looked up to see Sebastian and Anders riding very close to each other and talking. He tried to not get angry with them, but that seemed like his only emotion lately. He hadn't smiled since the day Fenris disappeared, and the others smiling just irritated him. "Is something funny?"

All laughter immediately ceased, and the two guilty parties looked back at him before gently guiding their mounts a bit apart and falling quiet again. It wasn't even slightly satisfying, and he knew he was being testy. Rather than say anything else, he looked to the sky and prayed to the Maker that the halla they were on would go faster. He was dreading what he would find when they got to Minrathous, but at the same time, he wouldn't leave Fenris in his hands.

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><p>"It's time to wake up, my little wolf," Danarius almost cooed as he patted Fenris's cheeks. He was rewarded with the lovely green eyes opening. He laughed softly as defiance stared back at him. "Don't worry, you won't be feeling that soon enough." He moved from the elf's range of vision and heard the distinct sound of him trying to get out of his manacles behind his back. It wasn't possible, of course, but it was amusing to hear. He'd pushed all but his healers from the room for the next part of this and nodded to them as he moved back to the table after picking up a slim dagger. Thier job was to keep him from bleeding to death.<p>

There was a serene smile on his lips as he set the cool blade to the inflamed flesh, and as he pressed it in and blood welled up but stayed in place, he heard a soft hiss. Lifting his eyes, he was amused at the glare he was met with. "I'm not sure I made you strong enough you see..." he mused as he slowly started dragging the knife underneath the pre-existing markings on the other's chest. "So we're going to do this again, and by the end, you won't remember again." A muted growl came from the other as he carved intricate designs over his lower abdomen, taking care to not sever any veins needlessly. What the majority of his fellow magisters didn't know is that he considered this to be artwork. The red lines curled delicately around the elf's lean sides as he worked, and silently he chuckled that they would go through this process twice, once for the front, and once for the back. There was a sole healer near his head, making sure he stayed awake despite any desire to pass out.

The first scream came long after he'd started and was like music to his ears. It was done with a very careful incision at the base of his cock after he'd removed the smallclothes. He had no intention of leaving any bit of him unmarked now, and he used both hands carefully, one to hold the flacid member as he dragged the blade around it shallowly. He would have to thank the man that had crafted this table for him. The shackles were keeping his hips perfectly still despite his rather loud struggles, and he had to smile as he carved the exact same design along the other side of it. He kept his touch delicate as he lowered his hand to cup his scrotum, being less fanciful with a line down the front of either side. He spared a glance up toward his face and saw that the green that he liked so much was shuttered. Tears were streaming down the sides of his face, making the hair that fell over his temples stick to his skin.

Abandoning the soft flesh was next, and he moved to carve some more on his hips. Elaborate lines laced the previously unmarred flesh and he moved away when he was finished to get the liquid lyrium that had stayed hot by being over a fire. He could hear the elf's harsh breathing as he realized there was no more coming, and he laughed softly as he levitated the lyrium from the pot. A bloodcurdling scream echoed around the room and made the healers cringe as the overheated liquid touched his skin and fell into the wounds. It was like music, and he smiled as it only broke for an instant so that Fenris could get more air into his lungs.

Like before, it seemed to boil as it settled into his flesh and further into his veins, and he nodded to the lead healer to seal the wounds around the lyrium. He didn't fail to notice the pale complexion of all of them as they worked to do as he ordered, green light sealing the most intimate of wounds.

He was dimly aware of the sound of a once proud warrior just sobbing and when the healers stepped back, he moved forward to gently smooth his hand over the still tense stomach that was no doubt tender. "And think Fenris, we still have more work to do." The abstract horror he could see in those lovely green eyes was more than worth it.

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><p>He didn't know how long it lasted, that hideous torture of Danarius's. When Fenris had felt the first cut of his blade, he knew somehow that he would have to cling to his memories as hard as he could. Even if he wanted to forget the magister of before, he would only end up with the same one again if he let go and fell into the abyss for the second time in his life. And he wasn't willing to give up every vestige of Hawke.<p>

After he'd been turned over, his previously unmarred back received a multitude of flowing lines to match his front. It still hurt, even long after the healers were done with him, and he just felt exhausted from screaming so much. His throat was long past hoarse, and the healers had been ordered to not take care of that. And then he was left alone. Left alone in a cage not even really small enough for an animal with what looked like a blood magic sigil under him. He couldn't bring himself to care about it in that moment as a shudder ran through him again and pulled on the new lyrium markings. If Hawke hadn't thought they were hideous before, surely he would now, especially the ones..that he didn't care to mention.

Closing his eyes, he resolved to try to sleep, if only to dull the pain. Thinking of better times helped, to a degree, and somehow, he still managed to fall asleep with a very faint smile on his lips.

But it wasn't to last for long. He heard the heavy door of the room opening, and with it, his eyes turned toward it. He was still half-asleep, but recognized another female magister. She had been under Danarius's tutelage before, and had worked with Hadriana some nights to make him miserable. She was accompanied by a healer in pale green robes and another slave with a long box. He was immediately wary, and with a flick of her wrist, the cage collapsed around him and the sigil started to glow. He doubted it would be so simple, so he stood and reached out, hand encountering a barrier. A soft 'hmph' escaped him and he turned his back on the magister, not in the least impressed with her trickery.

"Still as defiant as ever." Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he heard the box being opened. Something was removed and shaken, and he heard the unmistakable thud of blades on a stone floor. He started to turn as a whistle was heard, followed by a crack, and then the warm feeling of blood running down his back made him realize what exactly had happened, without looking. "He just wants you to understand that he loves you." The young woman's voice was pleasant, as if they were talking over tea and cookies. "I want you to understand that I hate you for killing my mistress."

Again the whip cracked and he felt metal blades dig into him this time before tearing free of his skin. He stumbled against the far side of the barrier as it lashed out again, his blood staining the floor beneath him. Again and again, it cut into his skin, leaving his back in no more than bloody ribbons by the time she was done. He only vaguely heard her order the healer to do his job as he sat there, weakened by the blood loss. He felt the warmth of healing but couldn't even bring himself to kill the healer to end his torment. Dimly, he realized that the sigil opened to allow the healer out when he was finished, then registered the door opening again.

"You got a bit overzealous." Danarius's voice was unpleased, but there was no reply from the woman as he moved around the sigil where Fenris waited to see him again. There was no way he could hide the unadultered hatred in his eyes as he looked at the magister that had ruined his life twice-over, and he tried to bite him as he reached in to grip his head. It didn't connect, but he had to try. "And you, Fenris, are as stubborn as ever. It seems I'll have to make you forget myself."

A mild thrill of panic ran through him and he tried to push away. The blood that had pooled around him was starting to twist up to hold him in place and there was a smile on Danarius's lips as he weaved the magic he needed to in order to place a block in Fenris's mind once again. He struggled to hold onto something, anything at all.

The damnable mage with the ungodly warm hands when he healed his leg from a fall, the archer that was always annoyed for some reason, Varric and his outlandish stories, Isabela and her constant talk of sex, Merrill and how everything was so new to her, Aveline's unwavering resolve to make Kirkwall safe... and Hawke...everything Hawke was. His smile, his laugh, the way those undeniably red eyes seemed to glow in the dark, the gentleness of his hands despite the years of weilding two bladed weapons, the stupid furs that he liked to wear, even when it was sweltering out. His last thought before it went dark again was the feel of Hawke's lips on his own in a sweet kiss, just a year ago.

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><p>They were making progress, he supposed. None of them could sleep on the bony backs of the halla, as was evidenced by Isabela proclaiming she could and being caught by Hawke himself when she started to fall off. So when they stopped, it wasn't to be for long, at least in Hawke's eyes, and they made a very quick camp with a fire to warm up some food. There was still a lot of silence around, and Hawke knew it was mostly his fault.<p>

When he'd questioned Merrill about how far they were from the Highway, she'd quivered a little and told him less than a half a day, and that was at a steady pace. He might have been a little sharp when he said that they would push it and make it a matter of hours instead of how long she was suggesting. The highway meant finding a town, and finding a town meant finding better mounts. He wasn't stupid. He could see how the halla were tiring under their weight. It wasn't really surprising. They were Dalish mounts, not the normal ones for humans at all. They were used to at least half the weight Hawke was putting on them alone and he watched as all of them settled close to the fire silently. The girls huddled together, and Sebastian and Anders were still sitting oddly close, especially for a mage and a chantry brother, but he couldn't find it in himself to dwell on it. The only thing that kept running through his mind was Fenris. He couldn't stop imagining what the bastard was doing to him, and each and every imagining got worse until he had to force himself to stop thinking and check on the food.

He almost missed having Varric along to relate his stupid stories again, even if they were simply over-embellished adventures. He sat back down when the food was served and even laid a plate for his Mabari, hand stroking through the soft fur before he ate his own food. Though it was a rich stew, it still tasted like ash to him. A soft whine from his side told him that he'd once again spaced out from staring at the fire, and he smiled to Aether faintly before lifting the bowl and forcing the food down. Half a day, then they could make better time. Half a day, and hopefully Fenris would be alright.

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><p>AN: Let me know what you think? ^^<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

AN: So far so good and we're rolling on strong. I want to thank you all for reading this far, and furthermore, for the reviews of LittleLeto, LadyCatra-nee-Syringa, and Fork-Tongued-Nemesis. ^_^ You three and all the people who have added me to various alerts and favorites have made me smile. I hope you all enjoy this chapter (and later ones) just as much.

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><p>When he woke again, he was confused. He was lying on some pallet that was somewhat soft, near an open window. The warmth of the sun felt good on his skin. When he shifted to move, he winced a little and looked down to find the source of the pain. Nothing seemed abnormal, and he was sure others had lines like this on their bodies as well. Yet still, they pulled at his skin, and he absently scratched at them. It was odd that only some of them were painful. The loose leggings he had on slipped as he stood up, and he grabbed at them to keep them from pooling on the floor. Careful to not twist his torso too much, he moved to look out the window and found that he was was fairly high up. He could see the lush greenery of gardens, smell the subtle scent of flowers.<p>

A vague thought came to him, of someone sticking flowers in his hair and him growling and he shook his head a little. What a silly thought when he couldn't remember anything. It made him pause, and he gripped the window sill a bit harder than necessary. Why couldn't he remember? There was the face of his master, surely, a woman standing in shadow behind him with a wicked smile on her painted lips..but then nothing. The harder he tried to remember, the worse his budding headache grew. It was enough that he moved away from the window to sit down on the bed again, brows furrowed as he rubbed his temples.

The sound of the door opening made him lift his head, then stand. It was his master, no doubt come to berate him for sleeping so late. He was quiet as the older man's eyes roved over him and he moved one hand to catch the leggings that were once again falling. It wouldn't do for his clothing to fall off before his master unless his master willed it. As he waited for him to say something, he grew increasingly self-concious. Then the seeming inspection was done with as Danarius turned, and Fenris found himself automatically moving to follow him, clutching the too long pants to keep from tripping on them. He knew better than to ask any questions. It would only incite his master's rage further, and since he seemed angry already, it was probably not a good idea.

Even as he realized where they were going, he said nothing. He was to be punished, it seemed, for oversleeping. Not that he could blame his master for that. After all, what kind of body-guard was he? He wasn't even anywhere near prepared for his duties, much less waking the other man up like he was supposed to do every morning. A simple hand gesture made him move ahead of the magister to open the door to a sealed room and he shut it behind them before moving to stand in the center, watching his master expectantly.

"Lose the clothing Fenris. It hangs off you anyway." Obediently, he did as was ordered, making sure to kick the pants far enough away. "The goal, for you, is to try to not make a sound. If you make a sound, you'll be punished further." He knew better than to answer vocally so he nodded, eyes cast down at the slippered feet of his master.

There was silence for awhile, then he felt the unmistakable charge of lightning running along his skin. Combined with the pain of earlier, it made him draw a breath through his teeth. He was stronger than that. It came again, stronger, followed by a dreadful cold. Perhaps it wasn't really punishment, but testing. Something must have happened to make his master displeased, and that was why he had to go through this. Biting his tongue helped him to not make another noise as lightning, more powerful than the last, ran through him again. This test must be to see how much he could endure before breaking. He knew the answer to that question was 'a lot' so he remained silent, even when flames licked at his skin and scorched the tender lyrium markings. Any marks that would show up on him as a result of this would be cleared almost immediately by a healer.

Clenching his fists, he felt his nails biting into the soft flesh of his palm. There was a warmth there, and he concentrated on that rather than the magic that was making him stumble now. Force magic, Danarius had called it once. If he could stay standing for it, it would make his master proud, at least to a degree. When the pressure let up, he straightened again, breathing just a little ragged. He still didn't meet his master's eyes as he felt claws touch his skin. He'd called forth some of his minions from the fade. Shades, but Fenris wouldn't look at them either. They circled him, two of them, claws slicing into his skin intermittently. One of them deliberately sunk them in next to his groin while the other moved behind him again and trailed both hands of claws down his backside.

That was his undoing. The smallest grunt as he held off from a larger noise made the demons disappear and he knew that his master was unpleased. Further than that, he was ashamed. He'd let him down again, and without a word, he backed up until he was leaning against cold steel. Manacles one again clamped over his wrists and ankles. "Look at me Fenris." The soft words made him finally raise his gaze, and for an instant, the steel grey of his master's eyes were replaced by a vibrant crimson. Blinking a few times returned them to their natural color and he wasn't given any time to wonder about it.

A warm hand slid over bloodied, exposed flesh, dropping to grasp his member. As it was gently squeezed, he kept his gaze on the magister's. He knew how this would work. He would get no release from this, but Danarius surely would. The only time his master seemed to want to give him any release was when he wanted his fluids for some experiment or potion. But again, that was what he was used to. He didn't care about his own pleasure, as long as his master was satisfied. It seemed to take forever until Danarius was satisfied with how hard he was before he moved back to shed his own robes.

The softer body didn't appeal to him in the least. It should have, but it didn't. He remembered that at some point, he enjoyed servicing him in any way that he wished. But now as he looked at the pale flesh that was being revealed, all that he could want was lean, toned muscles covered in slightly bronzed skin. The beard would no doubt chafe him, and there was a distant memory of someone cleanshaven whispering to him in the middle of the night that was quickly chased away. Perhaps this was why he was being punished? Had he had a tryst with someone and his master had found out? If so, then the other person was surely dead. The thought of this mysterious person no longer existing sent a pang of pain directly to his heart, and he gasped a little.

Thankfully, his master thought it was a reaction to seeing him again and wore a pleased smile as he stepped back, using the mechanisms around him to suspend Fenris from the ceiling in chains and manacles. There was no preparation, nothing slick to ease the way, and briefly, he wondered why he expected it. A soft, pained groan escaped him, and he was given no time to adjust to anything as the magister started moving within him.

The only sounds in the room were the rattle of the chains and the harsh breathing of his master. It wasn't pleasant at all and burned every time he pushed in or pulled out. He was sure that he was bleeding by now, but that would probably just excite his master even more if he saw it. No doubt he did, if the way he suddenly sped his motions up was any indication. Luckily, since there was no care for his own erection, he could distance himself from it a little. Even when he felt the hot fluid spurting inside of him, he made not a sound. He was a vessel for everything his master wanted, from training to protection, from entertainment of the simple variety to entertaining several of the master's friends in carnal pleasures. The only thing that he had to be told to do was to enjoy it, and he would.

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><p>It took them a day and a half, roughly, to get to the Imperial Highway from Kirkwall. Even if Hawke wanted to complain, he knew it was making good time really. The city they found at the Minanter River had been hospitable when they realized he had money that he could spend on them and they were more than willing to part with six of their thoroughbreds for the amount of sovereigns Hawke had offered. It was a brief stop, in which everyone took different directions. Anders and Sebastian had gone to get some provisions, Merrill and Isabela took up the task of getting a few more blankets for the road to keep them warm at night, and Hawke had taken care of the horses. One of them was laden with their supplies while they planned to ride the others, and he waited for them to return at the edge of town, foot tapping impatiently. He was tempted to go on ahead, but he thought the might get irritated and go home actually. So he waited, patiently stroking back Aether's fur as the dog whined. He knew his master was anxious, and it made him the same way.<p>

When the other four did show up, he quickly packed the supplies on and tied the reins to the back of his own saddle. Isabela had to give Merrill a leg up onto the horse she was riding and he lightly kicked his to get them moving. On the flat road, these would be much better than riding halla, and his face was grim as he led the way past small towns along the way. He was determined to get there within another day and a half. By then it would have been a week since Fenris was taken, and Maker only knew what Danarius had in store for him, if not certain death. He couldn't think like that though. If he only wanted to kill Fenris, there would have been bloodshed the night he was taken. But it was over in an instant, there and gone.

Somehow he had to hold onto that hope. If he let it go, there would be no way to get Fenris out of there. He'd end up getting them all killed. As if to punctuate his mood, a rumble of thunder growled across the sky and he pushed his horse a little harder. He knew the others would keep up, and he wanted to make good time for the rest of their journey during the day. It was bad enough that they were likely going to get to Minrathous during the night and have to spend it in a tavern. The only upside is that it mean their horses would be rested and he could easily grab them when they were going to leave.

At least there was no illusion to how fast they would have to leave. Everyone knew that when they had Fenris, one way or another, they had to get him out quickly. As much as he wanted to kill that bastard magister, he would have to put it off if they could get Fenris before even running into him. He was sure the man would try again, and he'd be damned if he let him succeed.

Of course, this still hinged on them getting Fenris out alive. He couldn't look forward to it, since he knew vaguely what they were heading into, but he also couldn't turn away and leave him there. He could only pray that Fenris was at least healthy when they got to him, and it was something he never let up on.

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><p>He'd been left for a few hours, alone and hanging until his arms and legs went numb. It had been one of the healers that let him down and fixed his wounds, then briskly told him that he was expected to be clothed and at his master's side by dinner. There was a basin of water for him to clean himself with, and a pile of clothing that revealed more than it hid. The tunic was little more than strips of clothe that a hand could easily slide between, and the pants were so short that may as well be called smallclothes. Still, he didn't complain, and when he had wiped away the remaining blood and semen leftover from his training to withstand, he slide them on. At least they were soft against his inflamed skin. He didn't understand why some of his markings hurt and others didn't, but he wasn't about to question it.<p>

Leaving the water where it was, he moved to find his master. Before the meal meant before the guests arrived, and he hoped that it wasn't too late. He didn't even know why they were having guests, but at least that meant that there would likely be no more punishments for the night. He found him getting dressed and automatically moved to help him without a word. When finished, he stood back and silently waited for his master's opinion.

"The outfit suits you. I'm sure our guests will enjoy it." The words almost made him raise his eyes to question it, but he remembered at the last second not to. Why he even wanted to in the first place was a mystery already, and his brows drew together as Danarius led the way to the dining hall. Why did he want to do things that were clearly against his orders? The first day they had met, Danarius had slapped him for daring to meet his eyes when he wasn't ordered, and he hadn't done it since.

He only slipped around the man to open the door for him, and he refrained from asking a question that boiled at the tip of his tongue. He recalled having a sword, something fairly large, but it wasn't anywhere near him now. He wanted to actually protect his master, and to do that, he needed his weapon, not just his hands. But perhaps that would be for another night. He felt as if he'd been away for awhile and perhaps that was why the master wanted to have him close. To test him. To make sure he would still be his perfect weapon. Well, if that was the reason, then he would make sure to not let him down. He moved around the table to where his master would sit, standing just behind the chair until he wanted something of him.

There were murmurs as other magisters filed in in pairs, each splitting off to either side of the table like in a dance they'd played often. He could easily hear their murmurs about him finally being heeled like a dog should be and had to stop himself from replying in some sort of acerbic manner. What in the world was wrong with him? Did he truly change so much in the time he couldn't remember? Shaking his head just faintly to rid himself of his thoughts, he heard Danarius say something and a bottle of wine was brought to him. So it was this game again. He poured for his master first, then started moving around the table silently to fill the glasses. There were other slaves, dressed better than he was, serving food on the other side, plate by plate.

The majority of them were elves. Fenris suspected it was just that Danarius liked how petite they were. He carefully stepped over a staff that was suddenly in his foot path and took another bottle of wine as his ran out. It seemed that the other slaves weren't inclined to even react to the change of him being there. Soon, he and the food servers switched sides, and he had to be careful to not bump elbows as the magisters deliberately jerked them back to try and make him stumble. Anything to make him appear still incompetent, but he was well versed in this game as well.

Soon he was back at Danarius's side and all of them commenced eating. His own stomach grumbled very faintly as the rich smells of Tevinter cuisine, and he silently told it to shut up in his head. He was sure he would be fed later. When a question arose about entertainment, Danarius merely told them to wait for after the meal.

It made him curious, and when all the small talk and plates were gone, his master waved a hand. Three of his slaves came in and before his eyes, climbed on the table and laid themselves out as a feast. He could see no emotion in their eyes, and Danarius stood, willing the others to do as they pleased, no matter what they wanted to do. There was a dawning horror in the back of his mind as he was commanded to follow, and leaden feet made to follow him as one of the females was roughly pulled down, the rip of clothe the last thing Fenris heard. Somehow, he knew that they wouldn't be alive at the end of the night. He was glad though, that he wasn't involved at all in it.

As he followed his master, he listened to what was going on around him and took note of the fact that they were heading for his bedroom. Apparently he wanted his own entertainment and Fenris couldn't say no. The large heavy doors slid closed on their own accord and he stopped when Danarius turned to touch him, removing what aspired to be clothing with a flick of his wrist.

This game went much the same way as he was used to as well. It ended up with him on his knees at the end of the bed with the magister behind him, pumping away. He thought he should perhaps enjoy it, but something was on the edge of his conciousness again. Whispered assurances that he would never be hurt, that they'd only do what he was comfortable with. Hot lips that branded him as surely as the lyrium did and made him think that everyone must know what they had been up to. And finally those piercing eyes. Never the steel grey of his master, but something much more vibrant with thick lashes that would brush against sensitive spots to drag moans deep from his throat.

But it must have been a fantasy. He came to reality as he felt hot semen slipping down his leg and heard a rough order telling him to go clean himself and rest. Merely nodding, not at all trusting his voice, he stumbled into the antechamber that would serve as his bedroom and used the small bucket of water that had already been placed there to clean himself. As his stomach reminded him that he still hadn't eaten, he told it again to shut up. A slave did not eat when he was wont to, he ate when he was fed. And so would Fenris wait just for the moment when he was given a plate of food. Or a saucer. He seemed to recall that if he'd misbehaved, which he obviously had lately, that he was to eat like a dog. Humiliating for sure, but at least it was food.

Crawling into his hard pallet, he pulled the sheet over himself and curled up tightly, falling asleep with visions of a demon's eyes tugging at the corner of his mind.

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><p>Somehow the weather had gotten it in it's craw to rain. And he liked <em>nothing<em> about that. As he miserably pushed the thick black hair back from his face again, he glanced around to his companions. At least the well traveled road was holding up well. The horses were able to keep up a fast pace that pleased him to no end. By nightfall, they would reach Minrathous, then it was a matter of finding the mansion and Fenris. Danarius would be a bonus if he was found.

Anders and Sebastian had taken to riding double, for 'warmth' they said, and to give one horse a break at least. He doubted that very much, and doubted where Anders hands were under the cloak that Sebastian had on. At least Isabela wasn't commenting or doing lewd things to Merrill. The small elf had passed out in front of the pirate and he was almost sorry because this trip had made her sick already. It was more than enough that she had blood magic at her command, but he didn't want to find out what happened if it went haywire because she sneezed wrong. Satisfied that they were all holding up, he glared at the lock of hair that stubbornly stayed in his vision and steadfastly rode onward. There were lights ahead, and lights meant the city. It meant a warm bed for the first time in three and a half days.

He was looking forward to being dry for a little while and to getting Fenris out of the maleficar's clutches. Gritting his teeth at that thought again, he called back to tell them that they were almost in sight of an inn (which might have been an hour away) and he was met with half-hearted cheers. Shaking his head just a little, he gazed down at Aether who was still dutifully running with him. He'd have to give the mabari something special the next time he had a chance, considering the poor thing ended up sleeping like the dead almost every time they stopped. There would be a good rest for him tonight at least, considering they were getting in early. Of course, that meant he was going to wake up early and put his plan into motion.

Aether was actually the start of it all, and Merrill and Anders were going to be right there with him. They could hold themselves against other mages very easily, especially with Sebastian watching what was going on from the roof. And he and Isabela would find Fenris. At least, that was the basics. He was sure that it would come down to something more obscenely huge than that.

Heaving a soft sigh, he hunched his shoulders a little as rain trickled down his neck yet again. They had to succeed, or Hawke wasn't going to go home. He already knew that. He would rescue Fenris or die trying.

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><p>AN: Once again, reviews and comments are always welcome. Even if it's just to OMGOMGOMG! WHAT'S HAPPENING NEXT! :D<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

There was sun in his eyes, and for once, he didn't drag a musty pillow over his face to get away from it. Instead, he sat upright quickly and moved to find his clothing, laid out earlier in the night to dry around a crackling fire. The leather squeaked at him irritably as he yanked it on with little care. Orana certainly was going to give him a tongue lashing for his care of it. Ruffling both hands through his hair to give it some semblance of order, Eorwyn made a soft sound that both woke the mabari that was sleeping by his bed and made him follow. He was sure the others weren't up yet, but he had to make sure that some things were seen to before they even attempted his plan.

Breakfast wasn't even on his mind, but Aether had managed to catch the trailing skin behind him to tug him to a stop in the dining room and he sighed softly before going to the counter to get something sent up to the rooms and made for himself, and hopefully, successfully, a large bowl of dog food. A faint smile touched his lips as the dog devoured the food, and the way he ate it only reminded him that he hadn't eaten since midday before. His stomach complained loudly at the realization, and he stayed at the tavern's counter when he was given food to eat it quickly. Dropping a few sovereigns on the counter covered all six meals, and a few more ensured that they would once again have provisions ready for travel within a few hours.

After squaring away the details of how the meals were to be packed, Hawke moved out the door and toward the stables. There were already some servants grooming all the horses and he smiled faintly. A few coins passed hands again as he convinced the stablemaster to have all six of the horses ready for travel in two hours, with the provisions from kitchen strapped in. He had no doubt that the meal would be while they were moving. His hand dropped to his everpresent companion to stroke through the soft, short fur and he made his way to the market to drop some more coin and find out where the estate was. Not ten minutes later, he sent Aether back to the tavern with a message that he was to drop in Isabela's lap to explain that he was making sure of where things were, and he was running over rooftops to see how the entrance and grounds were. It was nice and dry at least, and he cursed his furs silently as he perched to look over the estate.

Briefly, thoughts of his plan escaped him as he saw someone older through one of the windows, followed by a darker skinned elf with white hair. He leaned forward as if to jump down from the roof then deliberately slammed his unprotected hand against the tile roofs and backed away before anyone could see what made the noise. He had to remember the plan. Even if it looked like Fenris was settled in nicely again with the magister, he knew that it was a lie. Giving it just a few minutes, he took off running back for the tavern, now more determined than ever to get his elf out of there.

He'd done something right today. It was enough that Fenris allowed himself a small smile. He'd woken before his master and had breakfast brought in before the man even sat up in bed. It earned him a gentle pet on his head before the food had been touched, and while he'd been eating, Fenris had pulled down his robes for him, then helped him to dress.

And yet... they were still going to the room for his punishment. He didn't really understand what he could have done so wrong, but he wasn't about to question it and make things worse. The pain from yesterday had thankfully subsided in the night, and he trailed dutifully along after his master, wearing only a tunic that barely covered him.

He was granted a brief reprieve as his master stopped to talk to someone, and he hid the small smile by casting his gaze down. Every moment delayed was a moment without pain. He understood that his master was testing him to see if he would run again, but he had no intention of it. At least, he thought he had run before. He vaguely remembered qunari, and seeing his master, then it disappeared again. The glimpses of things he'd forgotten were frustrating at best, and most frustrating yet was the apparent demon that could make him writhe with a single look. His dreams had been plagued with phantom touches, a low, dark chuckle, his own begging for mercy, and yet more teasing. He'd been horribly embarrassed when he woke up with a mess over his stomach and chest and had hastily cleaned it off before donning the tunic. His master wouldn't have liked to see that he was pleasured from anything, even a dream.

They were moving again. He easily fell into step three paces behind him and turned the corner into the door. His master didn't have to speak, only to look at him as the door closed for Fenris to remove the tunic and toss it aside before going to stand where he had the day before. Today, surely, he would hold out longer. It started the same. Simple cold, heat, electricity lighting fire along his veins and markings. The shades came again, cutting him shallowly. This time he didn't react to the piercing near his nether regions, and though his eyes were mostly shuttered, he thought he saw a pleased smile on his master's face.

Then it changed. The shades disappeared and he felt a heat at his back. A rage demon, his mind supplied. A lesser one, covered in molten fire. As its clawed hands curled around his hips like a lover's hands, he felt the burn. Danarius could manipulate the monster easily enough and it kept caressing him. He had to force himself to not react to the burn, and he swallowed a sound as it moved around him again, claws sinking into his skin again.

Hawke arrived back at the tavern to find the others waiting for him. The slightly soggy note was flung at him and he caught it midair.

"Please, never make him do that again." Isabela's voice was ripe with distaste, and he was pleased to see that there were several cleared plates on the table.

"I'll keep it in mind." He took the only open chair and felt the mabari lay his head on his knee, demanding pets.

"So, what are we planning then?" The rich brogue came from the prince to his left and he nodded.

It was a simple plan, and as he outlined it, he knew that Anders, at the very least, was annoyed that he was going to be shepherding a dog around. There were some fine points that were quickly ironed out and Hawke leaned down to give his dog the instructions that he needed to follow as well. To show that he understood, Aether easily moved over and sat at Anders' side like a loyal pet. He nodded then stood up.

"Sebastian, Isabela, come with me. Anders, Merrill, take your time getting to the door so we can get in. I doubt that the ruckus is going to distract them for very long." That said, he finally rose and went for the door again, nodding to the man that was setting their travel provisions up as he passed by. He watched as Anders and Merrill took his hound down one path, then led the way to the easiest route up to the rooftops.

Sebastian was put in a place where he could watch the front doors and easily snipe someone if they tried to hurt the two mages. He nodded as he led the way with Isabela again. For the two of them, it should be simple to sneak into such an estate. The guards around the back were lax, from what he'd seen, since Danarius himself was likely a formidable enemy. Nodding to the pirate, he dropped down into the gardens just as their friends arrived at the front gate.

He could still hear Anders voice, and could imagine the mage grabbing the Mabari's collar as he said his name, cuing the animal to start barking and snarling as he attempted to hold it back. Only Hawke's whistle would stop that, and it amused him to think that the dog was stong enough that even Merrill would have to help him hold it. He pitied whoever was the target of the barking.

The barking might have loosed his master's control a little, or maybe it didn't, but the demon's claws sunk in deeper near the small of his back then stayed still. Apparently the commotion wasn't enough to warrant his master's concern however, and all at once, he felt a wave of electricity surge through him. It was his breaking point again apparently, and he felt his knees buckle and demon's touch disappear when a cry came from his throat. He felt dizzy and leaned on his hands with his head hung to try and stop his head from ringing. He was spared from more pain however as the door burst open.

"Master Danarius, I am sorry to bother you, but we simply cannot get that dog to leave."

"Must I do ieverything/i?" There was a swish of robes as the magister turned. "Do not think your punishment is over Fenris. I will return shortly."

Even if it was only a brief reprieve, as the door closed, he lowered himself to the floor. Electricity still shocked him from it's after-effects and he relished the cool wood that his forehead was pressed against.

The second the barking started, Hawke and Isabela were off. They split inside the estate to go opposite directions and the pirate headed off for the more public areas to search them. Hawke turned toward the private corridors, easily checking in rooms to see what he could find. He pressed himself to the shadows when he saw someone talking to Danarius, and when the magister moved out of the room, the only thing he said that burned in his mind was 'Fenris'. He cursed that he didn't throw a dagger into the man's skull when he had the chance and hurried forward to yank open the door.

Horror filled him at the sight of the naked elf crumpled on the floor. Even though the last time he'd seen that smooth skin had been two years ago, he was almost positive that his back had been clean of markings. And yet now, they laced over him and curled in almost delicate, fanciful patterns, mirrored from his spine to his sides. While the intricate lines might have been beautiful, he had to swallow bile at the thought of how it had happened. Slowly, he stepped forward, noting the tunic cast aside and swiping it up, then looking back to Fenris. It seemed as if he was in a great deal of pain, if only from the ragged breathing, and it was then that he noticed the numerous cuts and puncture looking wounds. He would have to have Anders tend them as soon as they got somewhere safe.

"Fenris..." His voice was a choked version of his normal one as he knelt down beside the elf and reached out to very carefully brush back his hair from his forehead.

Startled green eyes met his own, and that lovely, husky voice was raw when he heard it. "...the demon is real..." Those were the only words that he heard before the eyes were shuttered and he was almost glad for it as he shook his head and carefully pulled the clothing onto his unresisting, very thin frame. Gathering up the near weightless body, he quickly made his exit, manhandling his unresisting form as he climbed up to the roof and gave a piercing whistle. A soft whine, and then it was silent again as the mabari could been seen dragging the mages away.

He moved away himself, getting out of sight with his precious burden and going back to meet Sebastian. The archer took one look at Fenris, then dug in his pack for the blanket that he'd stuck into it this morning. Hawke gratefully wound it around him like a cloak, tucking it up to hide his hair. Glancing back the way he came, he was pleased to see Isabela running over the rooftops to get to them. Nodding, he moved himself, heading for the stables. Anders and Merrill were waiting for them already and Hawke reluctantly passed his precious bundle to Anders before mounting the waiting horses and holding out his arms to take him back.

"Did you knock him out?" There was a hint of amusement in Merrill's voice before she was almost literally thrown onto a horse with Isabela quickly mounting her own.

"No, and let's hurry. The faster we get out of here, the better." Hawke's voice brooked no arguments as he kicked his horse in the sides to get it running straight off. The thunder of hooves behind him told him that the others were following without him ordering it and he wound one arm tightly around Fenris as he leaned forward. They were going to be on the highway for awhile and every moment that they were, he was going to be watching over his shoulder. The scream of rage and then terrified ones after were a sure sign that Danarius had found his precious 'investment' gone again and Hawke allowed a smirk to touch his lips as they raced away.

No way in hell was he giving Fenris up. Not after what he'd seen. He'd bully the elf into loving him again if he had to, but as he thought back on it, he wondered what Fenris had meant when he called him a demon and said he was real. It was gnawing at the edge of his mind and he knew he couldn't focus on it too much for the moment. Clutching his bundle all the tighter, he kept his eyes on the horizon, following the road. The only time they would stop would be when he was sure that the horses needed a rest and they were safe.

That time didn't come for awhile and he led them off the beaten highway to a copse of trees that they had stayed in before. There was a clearing if they pushed through, and he listened to the harsh breathing of his horse as he guided it carefully through the trees. When he found what he was looking for, he turned to look for the others and was pleased that he couldn't even see the road. Clutching Fenris tightly and dropping the reins, he swung one leg over and carefully slid to the ground. "Anders. I need you over here." His tone brooked no argument and the mage made his way over as Hawke gently laid the still unconcious Fenris down and unwrapped the blanket. Blood had soaked through the tunic to stain it and he made the silent resolve to give Sebastian his to make up for it.

He was happy when Anders didn't question it and lifted his hands over the prone body to rid it of the open wounds, a familiar blue light coming off his hands. The slight frown deepened on his face, and Hawke frowned to match him. "What's wrong?"

"There's...something more wrong with him than what we can see, other than the fact that he's not waking up." His hands skimmed upward as he checked for other bodily injuries and he paused at his temples. "I think the magister might have done something to his memories." There seemed to be a wall there that he couldn't break, at least not yet.

Hawke hung his head, one hand gripping Fenris's tightly even though the elf didn't respond. "Is there anything else...?" Other than the obvious branding. He could handle that, and he would show Fenris that it didn't matter.

"I can't be certain right now. But I've done all I can for him here, on the road. When we get back, I can take him to my clinic and look him over proper."

He nodded a little and watched at the healer's hands once again spread their magic over the other's body. He was likely the only one that heard a mutter about inferior skills and half-done jobs and when Anders sat back, he thanked him quietly for Fenris and picked him up again to sit against a tree.

Despite it being clear that he didn't really want to talk, he was soon presented with still warm meat and biscuits from their packs. He shook his head some and paused as he heard something that sounded a little like someone's stomach growling. It certainly wasn't his, and he looked down to see green eyes looking at him from beneath a fringe of white hair. He changed his mind in an instant and took the food to give it to Fenris instead. The hesitation before he took it and slowly started eating broke his heart and he loosened his arms just a little. That didn't last long before he was holding the elf about the waist again. He'd nearly slid right off and hadn't really noticed. That alone was cause for worry and he stayed quiet until the rough voice finally spoke to him, very softly.

"Where is my master...?" The tentative tone told him that there was some expected repercussion for speaking without being told to speak and he fought back the urge to go back to Minrathous to cut up Danarius into tiny chunks.

"He's no longer your master." The harsh tone of his voice made the elf cringe just a little and he heaved a sigh. Done something to his memories indeed. This wasn't the Fenris he fell in love with to begin with and he carefully gathered him closer.

"Then you have...bought me?" A horrified look came to his face and he quickly shoved it away before making the elf rest his head against his shoulder.

"Yeah...something like that." Bought, stole, it was all in the line of work for a rogue, and if he had to do that to make Fenris not just lash out and head back to Danarius, so be it. He could feel the others watching him and he looked up, one brow raised. Anders just looked a little amused, Isabela and Sebastian looked both a little horrified and approving, and Merrill was just curious because this Fenris didn't seem inclined to yell about anything. Aether was the only one that was taking the break seriously and resting, totally sprawled out on the soft grass near where the horses were grazing.

Gently, he drew down the blanket from covering Fenris's hair and stroked the soft white locks. It was good to have the other male in his arms again and he shifted when he heard him say something that he didn't quite catch. "Repeat that..?"

"I asked...what does my new master wish me to do?"

"Do?" He was confused, rightly so, and it must have shown.

"My old master was...retraining me for misbehaving. I would not wish to misbehave for you." The soft tone sent a shiver down his spine and he firmly clamped down on it. It wouldn't be right for him to even take advantage of him like that. "I could still perform as I did for him...I was his bodyguard, his bedwa-"

A hand over his mouth stopped him from announcing that, and the confusion in his eyes was evident. "...I'll tell you when I figure it out. For now, you just stay with me." He received a nod as an answer, and felt the elf relax further in his hold. Dropping his hand he sighed, only mildly content with the elf's decision to remain in his lap.

There was silence for some time as they rested. Fenris's voice once again cut through it though. "Master...?"

"Stop calling me that...It's Hawke...or Eorwyn, if you prefer." The title was more irritating coming from him than from Orana.

"...Yes Ma... Hawke. I thought you should know...I cannot move my legs." It was delivered simply, no fear behind it.

But the sheer horror on Hawke's face was more than enough for both of them. Now he knew what Anders had meant when he had said he wasn't sure if there was more. How could you diagnose paralysis if the patient wasn't awake? "You...can't.."  
>He received a nod and a tilted head. "I apologize for being defective."<p>

"You..you're not...oh Maker." He heard the slightly distressed sound as he crushed Fenris to his chest and just held him. One lyrium-lined hand lifted from the folds of the blanket to lightly stroke his hair, and he was sure that Fenris didn't even know why he was doing it. Somehow, it hurt all the worse, and he almost hoped Danarius caught up with them so he could murder the bastard in some excruciating way.

Lifting his gaze, his eyes met the warm chocolate gaze of Anders, and he could read the apology as clear as the sunlight that was streaming through the trees. He'd known, but he hadn't wanted to tell him until he was absolutely sure. He could appreciate the sentiment, even as he was angered that he hadn't been informed. He kept his peace though and soon enough, rose with Fenris in his arms again. The horses had rested enough, and they needed to get moving again if they were to get anywhere before nightfall.

They were heading straight south, practically, with their sights set on the town of Nessum or perhaps Caimen Brea for their night of rest. Hopefully it was too far for Danarius to reach them at the grueling pace they were keeping, and he was going to sell the horses when he reached there for other ones that weren't exhausted. The poor beasts were amazing, but they deserved the rest they would get.

With the plan in mind, he had someone help him in getting Fenris up again and he heard the collective sigh everyone gave as they all mounted up again. Only Merrill still seemed cheerful in the face of the news and he didn't even want to think of why. He let the Dalish girl take point this time, since they were getting off the beaten road again, and followed her dutifully after she made sure that there was no one coming. The pace was still harsh and the only way it didn't tire him as it tired the others was the feeling of a thin hand under his outermost layer firmly wrapped in his doublet. That alone was a small comfort. It was the only comfort he could take.

Warmth, safety, comfort. Despite being almost sure that this was the demon that did unspeakable things to him in his dreams, somehow, all he felt was safe. He was a very warm human, though that might have had something to do with the furs and skins he wore, but that warmth made him feel safe. The initial panic that he would be cast aside when he informed him of his new deformity had been brushed aside. It seemed as if this demon, or rather Eorwyn Hawke, was upset over it, but not in the manner that he'd purchased something defective. More like he'd been upset that he couldn't walk for himself.

That reaction was still rolling through his mind even as he took comfort in the well muscled arm that was wrapped firmly around him. It was familiar, lending more credence to the reality of his dream. The soft feel of the leather that he was clutching was familiar too and when he closed his eyes with that in the forefront of his mind, he could almost picture a large bedroom with a fireplace, desk, bookshelves, and a bed even larger than his previous master's. Sheets that felt like silk against his skin.

Opening his eyes again, he looked up at the other man. It was tempting to run his hand lightly along his jawline where the stubble was just showing and he resisted it to return to his observation. He was certainly a man who could take care of himself, he was sure, with those double-sided blades on his back. Somehow, there was a joke lingering in his mind about him using the blades to cut his hair and he forced that away too. It was silly to be so fanciful. It wasn't a slave's place, after all. After that, he refocused his gaze on his face. Those lips..he was sure they'd touched him before, and he licked his own. Oh there was desire there, for sure. A desire of the sort he'd never felt for Danarius, to be sure.

He wanted to feel those lips moving over him, those hands sliding firmly over his flesh. He wanted a night where he could just feel and not be there for someone else's pleasure. Closing his eyes, he managed to turn a little in the other's arm toward him. His reward was being held closer, and he smiled faintly where his new master couldn't see it.

Using his limited vision range, he gazed at the companions he could see. There was another mage, the same one he'd been aware of in the camp they had been in. He was almost riding neck and neck with his new master. Though he couldn't really see his eyes, he knew they were brown. Mud, is probably what he would call them, even though they were often very warm. How he would know that was beyond him, and a flash of setting sun on pure white drew his attention to the archer that was close by as well. There was a grim set to his face, one that probably shouldn't have been there, but somehow he knew he was the last of his line. Nobility, at the very least, and trying to think about the companions was giving him a headache.

So he turned his face inward again, listening to the sound of two women talking nearby. One of them was from Rivain..he could recognize that from the way she sounded. No doubt she had hair that was about shoulder length and wavy, with brown eyes. Fancifully, he imagined she was a pirate with a penchant for corsets, bawdy gold jewelery, and kerchiefs. The other voice..he would peg it as an elf. Not one like him of course, but then, none of the travelers he was with now were like him. Further south, if the dialect meant anything, possibly Dalish by some of the exclamations he could hear.

His musings combined with the rocking motion of the horse was making him tired, and he spare another look up to the stern face above him before settling back against his arm. Surely his master wouldn't mind if he rested. He didn't seem the type that would, and as his eyes slipped closed, the thought of this being the exactly way he had likely betrayed Danarius ran through his head.

He wasn't sure how long he slept exactly, but he was aware of his master shushing people as they came into a town. Shifting a little in the loosened grip was enough to tell him that he was awake and he was given a smile (a ismile!/i) as he looked up. The others took it as their cue to not have to be quiet anymore, and he heard the quiet thump as someone slid off their horse.

"Oh I think my saddlesores have sores on them!" It was the Rivaini, and he glanced to see if he could see her. He stared, amazed that his fanciful notions were quite accurate. "I swear Hawke, never again. You're getting me a posh carriage or something!"

"Now there's an idea. Let's get two beasts, a carriage, and we'll all ride home in style!" The healer mage. His lips twitched a little in amusement and his hands lifted up around his master's neck without any prompting as the man slide off his horse.

"Yes, and let's make it nice and slow while we're at it. We're not on a vacation." The man seemed disinclined to put him down, so he kept a hold on him.

"Oh I dinna know...I think we might fool them if we try it." That would be the one in white. Somehow, he knew his accent would be different.

"I've never ridden in a carriage before!" The other elf this time, and properly cheerful, like she should be.

"Just how would it be helpful, Sebastian?" He looked up at his master's weary voice and frowned a little. Had Danarius every looked like that, he would have brought him food, ordered a bath, and helped him ready himself for bed. Somehow he doubted this master wanted the same thing.

"They'll be looking for our horses," he started, but was interrupted.

"That's why we're changing them out, as much for their sake as our own."

"Would ye let me finish?" Oh, now he was irritated. Somehow, he had the feeling this happened a lot. "Change them out for sure, but even hiding ourselves from view would be good. They willna expect it since we charged out of the city on horseback." There was quiet to the suggestion, and he could almost feel the hopefulness coming off the others. He supposed his master must have been something of a leader to them, since they were waiting for his verdict.

"We...could try it, I suppose." His voice was resigned, and he felt a presence next to them as the pirate-y looking one filched some coins from his purse.

"I'll handle the horses upkeep for now, you go get us rooms. Really Hawke, you look like you're about ready to fall on your face."

"I'll come with you to make sure you don't drop him either." That was from the blond that seemed to appear at his side. As was normal, no one was asking his opinion, but his master nodded and headed for the nearest inn he could find.

Fenris just kept his eyes on his legs. Trying to move them was proving to be uneventful and he had a mild thought that it was probably the second of distraction when the demon's claws slipped too deep that did it. That, combined with the electricity.

He didn't pay attention as the mage talked for his master, only managing to negotiate two rooms and a total of three beds. It didn't bother him, and he would likely be on the floor, himself. That was, if he would sleep at all. He felt plenty rested from the trip there, and as they climbed the stairs, he remained quiet.

"Sebastian and I will take one bed...I'll tell Isabela and Merrill that they have the other room." The mage had apparently decided for himself, and his master merely nodded before moving to place him on one of the beds. It was certainly softer than the one he'd had. He was aware of the other leaving and his master pulling at his clothing and he fought the urge to attempt to get up and help him. He hadn't asked for it after all.

"...Why aren't you speaking?" A direct question. One he could answer.

"It is not my place to involve myself in your affairs, no matter what they may be." A soft sigh escaped him. "I apologize however, for not being able to assist you in the tasks that one in my position usually would."

That stopped Hawke from replying for a moment, and he wondered if he had upset him. Well, even if he couldn't perform the basic tasks, he could still be ready whenever he wanted a willing body or anything else for his bed. "I...could still perform some services, even without the use of my legs.." He used his hands to shift himself forward to the edge a little more, then moved his legs to the side with them as well. "I know any number of techniques..." The horrified look and complete lack of response made him stop. "Master..?"

"...don't ever suggest that again." Hawke's voice was soft and he sank down on the bed next to him wearing only his breeches.

It was confusing at best. His old master had taken all he wanted of him without asking. But this master didn't seem to want to do anything but hold onto him like he was the most precious thing in the world. As the door opened again, he dropped his gaze. Even if his master didn't mind him meeting his gaze, the others might. He was just a slave after all. The other two maintained a soft dialogue together that didn't include the other man, which he found a little rude, but then again, they were sharing a small bed and probably debating on who should get the precarious position on the outside. The mage ended up with it with one of the archer's arms around him, possibly to keep him there, or perhaps to just hold him close.

It was about then that his master reached over to extinguish the lantern that burned near the bed they were sitting on and shifted back to lie next to the wall himself. He let out an embarrassing squeak as he was yanked backward and gently manhandled into lying with him under a thick quilt.

"Maker but your feet are cold." The soft mutter almost had him chuckling, almost in remembrance and he ducked his head to hide the smile. He couldn't even feel the cold right now, so it was a small blessing in disguise. With that thought on his mind, he closed his eyes and let dreams find him once again. 


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I just want to say thank you, several times over, for reading and enjoying this. To all of my reviewers, the people who have favorited me or put me on their alerts in some way, _you_ are what keeps me going. All of you are the reason I've made it this far even, and I'm grateful. Never be afraid of telling what you did or didn't like about the chapter, because I am more than willing to see what I can do to fix it. 3 Now on with the fic.

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><p>For once, he laid in bed awake in the early morning hours. He was as warm as he could be under the thick comforter, and the twin bands of steel that wrapped around his upper back and waist kept him firmly in place, even if he wanted to move. But he didn't, so he was happy.<p>

He'd woken to the sounds of the others moving, and had suffered silently as the mage had checked on him without waking his companion. Then the two of them had quietly left them alone, and he busied himself with looking at his new master. Thick lashes curled on high cheekbones, and he swore there was some black surrounding his eyes to make them stand out even more. Not that he needed it, with eyes that were that red. Narrow brows, a straight nose, full lips that begged to be ravished, even in his sleep, and a jawline that he wanted to run his hand along. Not that it would stop there. His hand would slide up into the blue-black hair and lightly ruffle it, making it flip just a little more. Shaking his head, he dropped his gaze again, feeling as if he was betraying Danarius by simply thinking that this man was more appealing in a number of ways.

He allowed himself a small nuzzle against the other's collar bone as he relaxed once again, though he was soon rewarded with a soft sound as the other man loosened his grip and stretched a little.

"Where are the others...?" The smooth voice was sleep rough and sent a small shiver down his spine. But..he honestly didn't know the answer for once.

"I do not know...they left about one bell ago." The muttered curse was expected, as was his sitting up and releasing him, and he used his arms to push himself into a sitting position to get mostly out of his way. He watched as his master quickly yanked on his clothing from the day before silently, and wondered how to ask for help so he could perform his ablutions. It was an embarrassing topic for sure.

Thankfully, he was spared from asking as he was scooped up in strong arms and carried over. It was almost clinical, the way that he was taken care of in that respect, and he couldn't blame him. After all, it wasn't the normal way of things. Still, he wished he could at least walk. The saying of never knowing what you missed until it was gone was very true. The blanket that was on the bed was neatly wrapped around him once again, and he was carried downstairs. He could get used to this, truly, and he had to force himself not to delude himself. As soon as they returned to his home, he was sure that he would be used for whatever it was he had intended. There was no doubt that Danarius had gotten rid of him for his affliction, and hadn't informed his new master. It was probably irritating him and he knew he wasn't worth very much anymore.

Then again...that didn't seem to fit. If he was angry, shouldn't he be taking him back? Rather than holding him close as if he were more important than anything else, shouldn't he be demanding his money back for a faulty slave? There were so many things he didn't understand, but he was sure he would in time. For now, he relished the contact and relaxed.

"Ah Hawke, we were just coming to find you." Anders' voice was cheerful and he tossed a coin pouch toward them that Fenris quickly caught. "We got the carriages and horses lined up and they're all ready to go."

The silence that met the declaration made Fenris look up, and he was almost amused to see his master's mouth hanging open a little.

"Ye see, we decided that since ye were up well before the rest of us yesterday, we would let ye sleep and take care of details today." Sebastian showed up not far behind Anders, and Fenris didn't miss the touch that passed between the two of them or the smile given in return.

"So, if you'll follow us~" Anders voice was entirely too cheerful, something he somehow didn't think was normal, and he watched the mage turn and hurry off.

The box-like shapes in the distance were indeed carriages, each to be drawn by two bays. They were non-descript, likely meant for a noble's transportation while they were moving to another location. One of the doors were opened and he was placed inside on a plush seat before Hawke turned to the others again. And again, he was cut off.

"Climb right in there with him. Anders will be riding with you and the rest of us will be in this one." Isabela had already claimed the driving seat on the carriage she was on, which wasn't very surprising, and Fenris leaned forward a little to see what was going on a little clearer.

"Do you even know how to drive one of these things?" the question was directed at Anders, and he got a vigorous nod.

"How else do you think I escaped templars sometimes? Just get in already so we can get going." There was a not so gentle shove, and Fenris's eyes widened as Hawke nearly faceplanted right in his lap before the door was slapped closed. It rocked a little as Anders was climbing up outside, and the snap of reins was heard before Hawke even managed to right himself.

"Of all the bloody stupid ideas..." A glance out the window told him that the girl mage was sitting with Isabela, and that Sebastian was in the carriage alone. No doubt for appearances only. Settling back into his seat, he looked at the man across from him again as he roughly tried to neaten his hair.

"..it's a lost cause, you know," he offered quietly, and he got a quick look for offering anything. "I...merely meant your hair. it...looks good, in a disarray." He wasn't looking at the others face and missed the grin.

"Well you would say that...you did say it before."

"I...did?" He gave up on not looking and gazed back at the other man.

"A couple of years ago...you really don't remember, do you?" There was a slightly sad tinge to the smile he was given.

"I apologize...I truly don't." But oh how he wanted to. Everything that was said and done pointed to something on the edge of his mind that he wanted to recall. He wondered though, why he had forgotten. Had something happened to him, something horrible, that he'd forgotten everything about this man?

Either way, he heard the heavy sigh and felt the urge to apologize again. He almost did, but he felt fingers on his lips. Familiar, calloused fingers. He was quiet then, and sat back in his seat. It was going to be a long ride, and no doubt a quiet one.

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><p>There was a break for a meal as they moved across the back roads, only once passing the Imperial Highway. That was the only time Hawke breathed a sigh of relief, and he refused to stay in the carriage after that, instead chasing Anders inside to see what he could do to help Fenris instead and taking the reins for himself. He saw Sebastian shoving both Isabela and Merrill inside as well and grinned at the other rogue.<p>

It started a race, and over the carriage's clatter, he didn't really hear anything else. A vague murmur, perhaps from the carriage behind him, but that was to be expected. It was when they were going uphill that there was a yell, distinctly in Fenris's voice and a rock to the carriage. Immediately, he reined the horses in, cursing that they were just hitting the mountains and weren't far from Kirkwall at all as he climbed down.

As he yanked open the door to find out what was going on, he saw Anders sprawled on the seat he had been occupying and Fenris pressed into a corner and clutching his head.

"Do NOT touch me again mage," it was growled, and somewhat pained.

"Well see if I try to figure out what happened to your legs then," Anders muttered and it just left Hawke feeling confused. When the mage laid eyes on him, he scrambled out of the carriage. "You're riding with that bastard again. I refuse to."

He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head as Anders scrambled onto the seat he had been occupying to take the reins. It prompted him to move and climb in himself and shut the door again. The carriage lurched about as angrily as Anders had seemed, and he finally looked at the elf. His scowl was very familiar however, and it gave him a small thrill of hope.

"Fenris...what happened?" He lifted a hand and reached out as if to touch him and was stopped by a hand held up between them.

"I do not want him near me..until my headache subsides. And I will...apologize then."

"For what?" He was still so confused and somehow, the situation was mildly amusing to him.

"...For slugging him. He was leaning over me, with his hands on my head, and he was ridiculously close." The consternation on his face made Hawke crack up and he sat back himself, sliding down with both hands clutching his sides. "It is NOT funny Hawke! If I could kick you I would!"

"Well then I am temporarily happy that I have to constantly carry you around," he teased through his laughter, and then he had his arms full of Fenris as the elf tried to lean forward and smack him, just as they went over a bump in the road. He heard the muttering that went along with him trying to push away and only tightened the hold he had on him until the elf went limp in his arms and jabbed him in the chest.

"Let me go, you bru-" The words were cut off as he kissed him, despite the audible protest. He only got a small response before he allowed Fenris to draw away, and the elf ended up sitting in a heap on the floor.

Leaning down, he helped him up on the seat again and watched as Fenris hastily recovered himself with the blanket. "You don't have to hide from me you know."

"So you say. I've had more than enough people looking at me naked in the past week than I care to have again." Was that a hint of insecurity? He could almost overlook it and he shook his head some.

"For one thing, you're not naked-"

"I may as well be!"

"And for another, I think you still look wonderful." His compliment was easily brushed aside and he sighed softly.

"How much further to Kirkwall?" Deflectionary tactic, check. He didn't really blame him though.

"Hours, at the rate Anders is going. We were about to head up the mountains when you two made me stop."

"My apologies then." The sooner they were home, the better he would feel, Hawke was sure, but he didn't intend to let the elf go back to that drafty old mansion. At least not until he was sure he could take care of himself.

"You don't need to apologize for that..." But apparently their easy conversation was over. Fenris had turned his head away and was looking out the window. He wished he could ask him what was going through his mind, but that might be a little invasive for even him.

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><p>He'd dozed off somewhere through the mountains again. It wasn't because Hawke wasn't talking to him, but more because he wasn't really answering him at all. He'd pulled his legs up onto the seat with him so he could just wrap the blanket firmly around them like that to hold them still and resolved to do the distasteful thing of apologizing as soon as he could. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could actually be free to move around.<p>

When he opened his eyes again, he looked across the carriage toward the other man. Of all the things for Hawke to have in his hands, there was a brilliant red apple there. His mouth watered and his stomach growled very softly. At once, he remembered the pie he'd been given the night before his 'party' and he swallowed hard. No doubt the pie was rotten by now, or rather, what was left of it, but he still craved the tartness of the apple.

He was caught licking his lips as he stared at the fruit, then it was offered to him with a half-smile. Of course the rogue knew what one of his favorite foods were. The two years that had passed since killing Hadriana had proven to be very trying, with Hawke trying to seduce him, all over again. He whispered a thanks before gratefully biting down into the rich fruit, eyes closing with the pleasure of the taste.

Some juice escaped down his chin, but he didn't even notice it as he enjoyed the small treat. It wasn't until he was glaring at the core of the apple that he noticed Hawke leaning forward, and he froze as a warm tongue traced up his chin. "You..."

"Just one." It was whispered, and he didn't have time to respond before he was being kissed. At first it was nothing more than a simple press of lips to his own, but that wasn't satisfying for either of them and Fenris found himself leaning forward, sticky fingers lifting instead to tangle in Hawke's hair. A tongue licked along his lips and he let it in, a very soft groan escaping him. It felt like it had been forever since he'd tasted the spice and muskiness of the other man, and he leaned further, the other hand curling on Hawke's shoulder.

Somehow one of the rogue's arms had found it's way around his waist, and they were now side by side instead of across the carriage from one another, and one kiss turned into two, then three. Neither of them had noticed they'd stopped until they heard a sultry voice to the side.

"Well I'm glad I don't have to pay to see this show," Isabela had opened the door and was staring at them greedily, wanting, rather obviously, to see them doing more than kissing.

"You have the worst bloody timing Isabela," Hawke's voice was little more than a groan and Fenris shook his head some, allowing himself a small smile.

"Well next time I won't tell you we're just outside of Hightown then. While you two were enjoying yourselves, we've been debating what to do with the horses and carriages."

"Fine fine.." Fenris had to chuckle at the resigned tone, then he gripped the rogue tightly as he was lifted again to be brought out of the carriage. "Just turn them around, smack them to get them moving, and let them run. I don't care about the coin we spent on them and they'll find their way to a farm."

Sebastian nodded. "And draw any suspicion away from us." The plan made perfect sense.

His gaze slid over to Anders where the mage was standing apart from the group, one hand resting over his cheek. He could see a dull blue light under his hand and he sighed softly to himself. He didn't even want to talk to the mage quite yet, and didn't want to be near Merrill any more either. Using his grip on Hawke, he leaned up even as he watched Sebastian get the carriages turned so he could send them away. "Would you please just take me home finally..?"

Crimson met green briefly and he got a nod before Hawke turned from the ragtag group. "Everyone..get home and have a good rest. I'll see you all later...if you come over anyway." The addendum pretty much told Fenris, at least, that Hawke had absolutely no intention of leaving his estate and he rested his head on his shoulder. He'd almost rather be there as well, but even the bed in the older mansion would be worth it. He didn't realize that they weren't veering off for the rundown place until Hawke told him to hold on tighter and he saw the Hawke crest hanging above the door.

"Why...are we here? Weren't you going to drop me off at home?"

He received a quiet snort. "You can barely hobble around by dragging yourself and you expect me to leave you somewhere that ..." He felt more than heard the deep breath Hawke took as he opened the door. "Here is safer..alright? Let's just leave it at that."

When the arm was back behind his back again, he relaxed his hold around his neck. "Fine...for now." Within a couple of days, he had to get back into Darktown somehow. Then, if it could be fixed, he could stop being a burden on everyone. His eyes cast to the side as they stepped into the main hall. The banner was gone, there was a stain on the carpeting in the middle, and there was still a sword standing in the corner. "So that's where it was..."

"Hm?" Hawke looked down to him with one brow raised.

"I remember wondering why I didn't have a sword...when I was in Minrathous. The answer is because it has been here this entire time." It was simple, and there was a sharp calling of Hawke's name preventing the human from saying anything.

It was his mother, coming down the steps as quickly as her feet could carry her and almost launching herself at the two of them to hug them both. The welcome would have been appropriate for Hawke, but as Fenris found himself only slightly fending off the woman's kisses and hugs, he found a bit of peace in the words that accompanied them.

"Welcome home darlings."

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><p>AN: *grin* Did the author's note make you worried that this was the last chapter? I've still got a couple more in me. See you next time.<p> 


	8. Chapter 7  Addendum

AN: Because it was unclear, I've decided to write a little more for chapter seven. Emphasis on the little. It's not even a thousand words. I hope this clears up any confusion, and I'm sorry, but I don't know how to exactly work it right into the chapter. Enjoy, regardless 3

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><p>Fenris watched as Hawke moved from his view, the rocking of the carriage showing he was getting up to grab the reins. He smiled almost placidly at the mage that was climbing in to sit with him, though he was confused at the slightly horrified look that briefly passed over his face. Had something he'd done upset the mage already? Normally he was really good with them.<p>

"Am I correct in assuming..you are the one that healed my injuries?" he queried softly, noting that the mage was setting his staff to one side.

"You...would be correct. And you're being kind. That's rather terrifying, if you don't mind me saying." He was pinned by those brown eyes and he let his own gaze fall.

He shouldn't have assumed that he could question a magister, even if the magister was being kind to him. "Then I thank you," he responded quietly, hands folded on his lap.

"Well this is going to get irritating," he heard him mutter, and his eyes flicked back up to see him twisting his wrists with an audible crack. "And bloody awkward, considering I miss having you yell at me."

That got his attention and he jerked his head up, brows knit together in concern. "I apolo-"

"Don't bother, and really, I mean it. Lean forward some." Fenris did as he asked, watching the mage scoot closer and lift his hands to press on either side of his head. "Close your eyes and relax, and don't resist whatever I do."

"Of course, serah." He felt more than saw him jerk with a twitch, and he wondered what he'd said wrong this time.

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><p>He couldn't believe it. Fenris, being nice to him! It was like the world had shattered and been put together the wrong way. Shaking his head a little, Anders pressed his palms against the elf's temples, silently marveling at both how soft his hair was, and that he was so trusting to let him touch him when he had been adverse to even his normal healing before.<p>

Closing his eyes, he looked for the tinge of magic that was lingering on the elf that was not lyrium. Even if the lyrium was drawing his attention away purely because Justice found it intriguing, like he usually did. For a second, he allowed the spirit to indulge in almost tasting it before he shoved him back and resumed his looking.

There it was, and with it, something sour. Was this was Danarius's magic would feel like? Like something to make you throw up even the smallest bit of food you could have possibly eaten? No wonder Fenris hadn't been able to smack it away and resist it. Shifting a little closer, a frown furrowed his brow. He could feel the heat from the elf's skin as their foreheads nearly leaned together and in his mind, he could see himself reaching for what seemed like a wall.

There were chips along the edges of the wall, however, and he wondered about it briefly before getting to work. Being in the elf's mind was like being in the fade and he threw every bit of magical energy he could muster at the wall that was keeping him from the rest of it. The crack that appearead in the center and started to radiate out gave him hope, and he hoped Fenris would forgive him as a hand dropped to cover the lyrium lines at his neck to give himself more energy.

Once again, he threw it all at the wall, and it spiderwebbed, chunks starting to fall slowly before it crumbled in on itself. The joyous cry was cut off as he was suddenly hit across the face though and yanked from the niche he'd made for himself and he was dazed as he heard the carriage rolling to a stop.

Fire burned in his cheek and he worked his jaw a little as he stared at the elf that was pressing himself into the corner, both hands up and clutching over his head as if in pain.

"Do NOT touch me again mage," Fenris voice came out as a familiar growl, though there was pain lacing it.

Anger burned in him. After what he'd just done, he would still act like that? Well there was no question of whether or not Fenris remembered or not now, given how he was acting, and he barely noticed the door opening. "Well see if I try to figure out what happened to your legs then!" he muttered and turned enough to see Hawke standing there with a vaguely confused look on his face. "You're riding with the bastard again. I refuse to!" He pushed his way past the taller man and gave him no choice as he climbed back up on the seat. The sound of the door made him snap the reins to start catching up to Sebastian's carriage, and he resolved to heal what he knew was bruising the moment they didn't have something better to do.

That was of course, if he wasn't ambushed, which he was, and made to tell the others just how he got the ugly purple mark. At least the rest of them would know exactly how much of a bastard Fenris was, in that case.


	9. Chapter 8

He hadn't woken up in Hawke's bed since that night. That same night when he'd left him sleeping to pull on armor. He had almost left entirely, but something had stopped him. Something about seeing Hawke's sleeping face, so utterly relaxed around him, and with a smile curving those wide lips. He couldn't have just left that, and so he had waited for him to wake. And then everything had fallen to bits as he waited. What he had remembered rolled through his head until it broke into pieces like the logs in the fire as they turned to ashes.

He'd heard Hawke then, and he'd fought back frustrated tears. As they'd talked, he felt himself fighting to keep them from just falling. As he had left the room and started down the stairs to the rest of the empty house, he lost that fight. He'd spent time lingering in the foyer that night, getting himself under control before he went back to the lonely mansion.

But that was awhile ago, and as he stared listlessly up at the ceiling, he wondered if he'd be able to walk down the stairs again. This time the bed was empty, and no memories were haunting him. As he gave in and pushed himself into a sitting position, he noticed that Hawke was nowhere to be seen. It was the middle of the day already, judging by how much light was coming in, and he rolled his shoulders a little. It had been nice the night before, curled up against the other man again, even if all they were doing was sleeping. Kirkwall was so much colder than Minrathous already, and he'd soaked up all of the heat the Fereldan had offered.

His gaze traveled the familiar room again, lingering on the low fire for a moment before touching on the bookshelf and the desk in the opposite corner. There were a number of letters there, no doubt from women trying to make him court their daughters. If only they knew that he had no interest...then again, it would have been hilarious to see them fall all over themselves just to have their daughters told that he was never going to be interested because they had a set of breasts and a vagina.

He allowed himself an unamused chuckle at the image of several females completely unhappy faces, then tossed back the covers so he could see his legs. They were left bare, and his torso was covered by one of Hawke's dressier shirts, entirely too large for his small frame. One at a time, he tried to move his legs, to bend them at the knee, with no response, then further down, to attempt his toes with no luck. A frustrated sigh escaped him and he leaned forward to maneuver himself so he could drag himself to the end of the bed and sit up against one of the posters in the corner. It got him closer to the fire and he held the pole tightly to keep himself firmly upright. He didn't know how he was going to manage to live if he couldn't get around.

As if his thoughts had summoned help for that particular thing, Hawke seemed to appear and fill the room. Before he even opened his mouth to speak, the man was just larger than life, with a smile that could eat his heart and spit it out without trying. Leaning on the poster, he watched as Hawke came over and knelt down next to him rather than making him look up.

"I have a surprise for you downstairs." His voice was cheerful, and somehow just made his mood sour even more.

"Unless it is a way to make my legs work as they once did, I'm sure I'm not going to like it." His own tone was almost scathing and he regretted it before he was even done speaking.

"Well, not quite. But I'm sure you'll like it." He moved away then, and brought back a pair of familiar leggings. When he moved to help put them on him, Fenris snatched them away.

"At least let me dress myself if I can do nothing else," he grumbled, shifting again so his back was leaning against the post. It was interesting doing anything since they didn't move, but he forced them to move by using his hands. Thankfully, his blush at Hawke's watching him wasn't obvious because of his skin tone and he forced his legs into the pants with some effort. "...stop staring. Turn around." He'd managed to get them to his upper thighs at least and he glanced up as Hawke did as he requested then proceeded to squirm his way the rest of the way into them. Perhaps, for a little bit, he'd invest in looser pants just so this wasn't quite so ridiculous. "...I'm dressed."

And he was sure that he was flushed. But Hawke made no mention of it as he spun and lifted him out of the bed. It still startled him and he lifted his hand to hold onto his shoulder as if to steady himself.

"Anyway, about your present. It's sort of a new thing, especially for people with a condition like yours." A condition like his...an injury, more likely. He hadn't even told Hawke just how it had happened, since he was almost sure of the cause. So, he was quiet, letting the man carry him down the stairs that would surely break his neck if he tried to get down them himself. "Oh come on, smile a little. I got up extra early to just find one for you!"

Forcing a smile onto his face for the over-exuberate rogue was probably one of the harder things he'd have to do during the day. "Thank you...for the effort."

"Say thanks after I give it to you. Silly elf." He was startled as Hawke nuzzled his nose into his hair and curled his fingers into his shirt a little. Then he was set down. In a chair that moved. It was only when Hawke moved away from him that he looked down at what he was sitting in.

"It...has wheels." Giant wheels, on either side of him, and it had moved when Hawke had set him into it.

"Of course it does. You didn't want to be carried around by me for the rest of your life, did you?" That familiar, lop-sided grin was on Hawke's face again, and this time the smile on his lips was much more real, and even a little smaller than the one before. "Now that's what I like seeing."

The kiss dropped on his lips was familiar too and he sat back a little bit before absently touching the wheels. "I...thank you. Truly." And he meant it, even as he started moving forward just a little bit. Gripping the wheels tightly out of sheer panic, he realized that touching them was the reason he moved and he relaxed just a little. "I think though, it might take some getting used to."

"Well probably, and until you get used to it..." He was aware of him moving around behind him, and lifted his hands as the wheels started to turn without his help. Apparently, Hawke was going to push him. "Just until you get the hang of it."

"I'll endeavor to make it quick...so you do not have to cater to me."

"Oh don't worry about that. I rather enjoy it actually." And so saying, Hawke spun them around, causing him to grip the unmoving arms tightly. He heard a dog barking and he glanced over at Aether, who had taken his customary spot by the fireplace. Trying to focus on the dog was simply making him dizzy though and he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"You are going to make me ill, you madman!" The sharp words caused the spinning to stop abruptly, and the soft laughter from behind him showed him how unrepentant the rogue was. Warm hands squeezed his shoulders lightly.

"Would you like to go into Hightown to get the hang of it? I'm pretty sure the square in front of the chantry will be fairly empty this time of day." The idea had merit, and he nodded a little. Soon they were moving again, and his hands were folded in his lap. He did reach forward to get the door at least, then sat back when they got into the sun, one hand lifted to cover his eyes for a moment.

"...are you sure I won't stand out too much?" He meant of course, the tattoos, but Hawke was apparently not even thinking about them.

"Well as much as a chair with wheels will stand out I suppose." He was beginning to wonder if Hawke was forcing the cheer or not and when they passed through the archway to get in front of the stairs leading to the chantry, they stopped, and the Fereldan let him go. "All yours Fenris. I'll keep you from running into anything, don't worry."

"Don't worry...of course not." Taking a deep breath, he lowered his hands to the wheels and pushed them to move himself forward slowly. It really was a lot different and he slowly worked his way toward the chanter's board. The sister standing next to it glanced at him, then away, and he took it in good stride as he quietly worked through just moving it one way. He was sure the turns would make him spin nauseatingly until he understood how to work it, and he was thankful for Hawke's silent presence in case he decided the stairs looked like a fun obstacle.

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><p>Finally the Orlesians had done something right. And he had to admire Fenris's determination with it as well. The warrior was getting the hang of pushing himself around and he paused again as he turned slowly. Somehow, it was very unnerving to see a proud warrior LIKE Fenris reduced to learning how to move again. But he supposed that the heavy sword he usually swung around was good for something - it wasn't taking him much effort to get it to move.<p>

He let his mind wander a little as he kept his eyes on Fenris. He still had questions for him, ones that the other male probably wouldn't like answering. Like about the new tattoos, or how he had found him. He wanted more reason to kill the bastard. But, his thoughts veered a little. In remembering them, had Fenris forgotten the ordeal of his few days with his previous master? He certainly hadn't talked about him at all, but that wasn't unlike Fenris. He was a very private person, both when they had met and to this day. The only time he'd opened up had been on a night long past, and even then, it hadn't been about anything really.

He'd let Hawke in to a point. And he relished that little bit of openness. Even if it had just been his pleasured face, his moans as he was taken gently, and then harder only from his begging. Each and every arch into his hands was worth it, each little flare of the lyrium brands delighted him. He'd taught Fenris in that one night that his ears weren't a source of pain, but something he should like to have nibbled on for pleasure. Even those normally bare feet hadn't escaped him. He'd found out, purely by accident, that he was ticklish, right on his arch, where his foot actually didn't touch the ground. For a few minutes, he hadn't let up, and he'd dodged the lean limbs that had kicked out at him to try and get him away. Apparently, Fenris hadn't known he was ticklish either, and he had been breathless and clutching him when Hawke had finally moved back up.

A wave of sadness hit him, and he stepped a little closer and aside as Fenris rolled backward instead. He was ticklish, but now he couldn't even feel his feet. He'd never laugh like that again until tears were in his eyes from mirth, not from the same cause. A dirty joke perhaps, but certainly not from something so personal. He stifled the sigh that was going to escape him and pasted on a smile when Fenris looked up at him to tell him he'd had had enough practice for one day. "Of course!"

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><p>Taking hold of the chair again, he neatly spun him around once again and headed back toward the estate so he could branch off toward the market district again. He wanted another pie to help make Fenris forget the experience. They couldn't erase the week and a half spent racing across the country, but they could dull the experience and make it a very dim memory.<p>

Days passed by almost agonizingly slow. But they got into somewhat of a routine. Fenris agreed to not try to go up the stairs leading to his old mansion, instead to stay in Hawke's estate. The man still insisted on taking him upstairs every night and he couldn't really complain since it was certainly more comfortable than where he'd tried to sleep the first night.

He had managed to push himself into the library and lever himself into the wing chair closest to the corner, facing the door, tipping over his own wheeled chair as he settled into the soft leather and dragged his feet up and onto it. Not even ten minutes later, Hawke had strode in and righted the chair first, then picked him up despite protests and with a simple "Oh shut up will you?" The words had been enough to make him slack-jawed the entire way up the stairs, and he'd only managed a token protest by the time he was laid in the bed. He'd gotten a look for that one too, and when he'd squawked at having his leggings removed almost instantly, he'd finally been told to be quiet for the rest of the night or there would be inventive ways of making him be quiet practiced.

The threat of that alone was more than enough to make Fenris keep his mouth firmly shut as the blankets were drawn over him, and since then, he'd merely waited at the foot of the stairs for Hawke to be ready for bed. Though, he'd been scolded for that too, though not quite as harshly, for falling asleep against the banister.

He spent time gazing at the books in the library, silently wishing he knew how to read better then casting aside the fanciful notion. Pushing himself backward out of the room, he sighed softly and twisted around. Sandal was again playing with Aether and he briefly thought of stealing the job to give his arms a rest. But he knew he had to get used to it. Anders hadn't come up to check on his condition, but he hadn't felt anything in his legs since the day he was rescued. He'd known it the second he'd lost control of his ability to stand that something had gone wrong with what Danarius was doing to him. Usually his ma... He had been so careful. But that time, the barking had distracted him. And he couldn't tell Hawke about it. There was just no way.

Shaking his head at the thought of having the dog with him, he moved to let himself out of the estate, silently moving toward the chantry. again. He had two areas to be. One area he could practice rolling around pillars, the other he could look at the chanter's board and lament that he had nothing that he could do on it.

Today, he was surprised to see Sebastian at the board, pinning up the day's notices for the very short chanter nearby. From the way she was looking at him, he wagered that it was less for his height than it was for merely looking at him. Pushing himself a little harder, he managed to stop right next to Sebastian, which thankfully caused the chanter to return to chanting incessantly. Sebastian finished his task then smiled to him to show he hadn't been ignoring him.

"Fenris, what a nice surprise. I dinna think I've seen ye since we got back." Sebastian's brogue was definitely easy on the ears and he found himself smiling a little in return.

"Hawke has been keeping me on a tight schedule...I sleep when he sleeps. And Maker forbid if I'm not there when he's ready to." The smile on his face belied any threat from Hawke in any manner though and Sebastian nodded as he turned the chair for him so they could move the other way. The prince knew better than to just push him, and just aid him gently.

"A real stick in the mud, aye?" Fenris gave him a nod with a soft chuckle. "Well, escaping sounds like fun for a day. Would ye care to stop by the markets anywhere?"

"Stairs tend to be my undoing, I'm afraid." And there was the hint of resentment. Being captive in a larger area was still being a captive.

"Then I shall be your re-doing, my friend." There was a pat on his shoulder and the two of them headed for the Hightown marketplace.

He wasn't too surprised when Sebastian picked him up, chair and all, to carry him down the stairs. An archer would definitely have a lot of upper arm strength, and he tried to not at all be alarmed when he did it for the second time and set him down. "See? Ye arena restricted just to the area surrounding the Chantry. Just ask the chanter to come and get me and she will."

"I will have to remember it. Or force you to carry me down to The Hanged Man just to escape one day." That got a light-hearted laugh that was still rare from the archer and he was content to just spend a couple of hours with him browsing the wares, and though he felt uncomfortable with it, he still allowed him to buy a couple of things under the assurance that he'd be paid back later.

When it came time to head back up into the estates, he was almost disapponted. He stayed quiet about it though and let Sebastian handle the stairs for him once again before they got fully up. "Thank you for today. I really do appreciate it."

"As I said, ye ken that any of us would be willing to help ye get around. All ye have to do is say the word."

Fenris nodded, though he silently disagreed as he pushed himself toward the Hawke estate again. If he wanted help, there were two people to ask. Sebastian of course, and Hawke. He would never dare to ask Anders, though, the more he thought about the mage, the more he had to thank him.

Despite now being sure that the memory block would have dissolved on it's own, the mage had been instrumental in making it disappear even faster, and for that, he was grateful. The less time he spent as a simpering, pathetic slave, the better off he was. So perhaps, in a couple of days, he would ask Sebastian to take him down to the undercity. If he was at all lucky, Anders would accept the apology and hopefully look at his legs to see if the case truly was hopeless.

The door opened for him, and he saw Orana standing there with a smile. "Master Hawke said I should keep an eye out for you," she murmured, leaning down to help him with the packages that were on his lap. He'd gotten used to seeing her around more, and when she finally stopped calling him master was when the two of them got on just fine. A small part of him hoped that this is what his sister would be like when he finally did meet her, and he smiled very faintly at the thought. "I'll tell him you're home."

She didn't wait for a reply, and Fenris merely nodded, watching her trot off with his purchases as he moved over to where Aether was sitting so he could pet the dog. The loud sound of footsteps on the stairs made him look up and he smiled to Hawke as he saw him again. "You skipped out on me," came the teasing voice.

"I needed air...Sebastian walked with me for awhile."

Wisely, Eorwyn did not comment on the walking, merely laid his hands on his shoulders to rub at them. It was a welcome gesture even and he leaned back to rest his head against the other's stomach. "I am...growing very bored."

"Well it's not really surprising, is it? You used to frolic around like you were a Dalish." There was a humorous lilt to his voice, and Fenris lifted a hand to smack one of the ones on his shoulders.

"I do not frolic." His voice was stern and there was a soft laugh behind him. "I mean it."

"Of course, of course. You just practice your choreography." Once again, he was teased, but this time, he laughed over it. He couldn't tease like that anymore. It almost made him sad and as the human leaned down to hug him around the shoulders, he had the feeling that he knew. "..somehow, we'll get you walking again Fenris. I swear to you."

He closed his eyes at the soft assurance whispered in his ear, the warm breath causing a shiver to run down his spine. Even when he was an invalid, and Hawke wasn't trying to do anything but be kind to him, that velvety voice had more than enough power to leave him wanting more. Indeed, as his lips brushed over the shell of his ear, he had to stifle a groan that would have revealed more than he wanted it to.

Mostly because he just wanted so much. He wanted to turn to Hawke and beg him for more already, and he'd barely touched him. He wanted his touch to erase what he had felt when he returned to Danarius's, that vile, flesh-burning acid touch that he couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how much he scrubbed. And yet he didn't want Hawke to touch him like this, when he couldn't even move for himself to respond. It only solidified the idea that he wanted to see Anders as soon as possible, and briefly, he thought of the cellar that connected the estate to Darktown, just outside of Anders' clinic. He was sure he could get down there even without help, and Hawke would never know. It would certainly be a nice surprise to him if he could manage to walk again one morning instead of having to be carried. Or even just shift in bed to hold him better without his legs being left behind.

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><p>His hands curled more firmly around Hawke's as he thought about it, staring at the waving fire. It seemed that his short time away had broken down all the barriers they had before. Even if he was still afraid of forgetting anything he might remember during a night with him, he was slowly starting to think it was worth it. Even if there was pain involved, the pleasure far eclipsed it, and Hawke would always be there if he needed it.<p>

It was interesting at best, he thought, as he tried to maneuver his way down into the cellar without any help at all. He'd waited until Hawke had gone out to take care of something for his mother, and until Orana was busy with a meal with Leandra in the kitchen before trying. Getting down the stairs was going to be the interesting part. He winced a little at the sound the chair made as he slowly moved down the stairs and hoped, for just a little bit, that his arms would hold out until he made it to the bottom. They were the only things keeping him and the chair from tumbling into the darkness and possibly breaking his neck.

Each little sound made him twitch a little and by the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, he pushed around the corner of the vault and just sat there for a moment, both to catch his breathe and to see if anyone was coming. After just a few moments, he nodded a little and shifted so he could get the next door. He was hoping that Sebastian had gotten his letter to meet him in the cellar from the Darktown entrance and he paused as the knob in front of his hand slowly turned without his touching it. Backing away, he prayed it was the archer and not some thief, because he really didn't want to end up leaving a body in the basement.

When the door swung open to reveal the archer, he breathed a sigh of relief and inched forward a little. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to try another flight of stairs," he intoned quietly, giving the rogue a smile.

"I dinna ken how you managed the first one without breaking yer neck. Now what is this about?" He seemed more curious than anything, and that was thankful.

"I was wondering if you wouldn't take me down to Anders' clinic. I ... have to speak with him, and I don't want to ask Hawke." He got a knowing look in return, then a nod, and he slumped a little bit in his seat. "...don't ask questions."

"I have but one. Do ye want the chair or not?"

He was thankful for that and shook his head some. "I think it'd be easier if we left it, if you don't mind."

A shake of his head was the only answer, and Fenris lifted an arm up around his neck as he was easily picked up and carried down the next flight of stairs. He was blessedly quiet though, and it was something Fenris appreciated whole-heartedly. Too many people would babble to fill the quiet but that was precisely why he'd chosen Sebastian for this. He wanted time to just think of what he was going to say to the mage when he saw him, and as they came into the dusky light of Darktown, he said a quiet thank you.

"Dinna mention it," was the light response as he was taken to the clinic and gently sat on the bed. "I'll get Anders then take my leave for awhile."

He simply nodded and let his fingers absently worry the coarse sheet he was sitting on. If he could get the mage to agree to try after he apologized, then perhaps he could walk home instead of being carried. He heard the sound of a raised voice and twisted to look at the door in the back of the clinic. He was sure that Anders certainly wasn't happy about having him, and before the clinic was even open. He watched the door open again, and saw Anders briefly, lacking that ridiculous coat of his, before Sebastian let himself out of the small room and made his way to where he was sitting again.

"He'll be out in just a moment. I'll be outside if ye need me." He received a squeeze to the shoulder then was left alone. Casting his gaze back at the closed door again, he took a deep breath to steady himself. While he wasn't sure that he wished to reveal everything to Anders, he knew he couldn't keep living the way he was. He'd end up going insane and hating himself for it.

Turning his head a little, he heard the door open and the angry strides of the healer coming toward him. When he was close enough he raised his gaze to see the mage's mouth open, possibly to deliver some sort of scathing greeting, and he cut him off before it could happen. "Let me begin by apologizing. The night in the carriage...I was not thinking. I merely reacted. After...what Danarius had done to me, the last thing I wanted was a mage near me and even you have to admit that you were...very close."

"Well you didn't have to hit me like that! A shove would have sufficed and it was what I was expecting!" Even with the apology, Anders' voice was annoyed and his eyes followed him as he paced back and forth.

"Had it been any other day, I would have likely done just that. After that though..." He shook his head a little, taking his eyes off of Anders to gaze at the ground instead.

"What the bloody hell could have been so bad that you'd need to slug someone that was trying to help you?" Finally, he'd stopped pacing and was frowning down at him, arms folded across his chest.

"Before I tell you anything...I want your assurance that you will tell no one else. Even if they ask you and bring you kittens." He refused to look up again, and even as he heard the grudging agreement, he kept his eyes on a crumble of dirt on the floor. As he started telling him everything he remembered, he didn't look up once. Even when he told him of the rapes and heard the disgusted sound, he couldn't bring himself to look up and see the horror on his face. Of course he knew it was bad, and the absolute last person he had ever wanted to tell was the one he was talking to, but he knew that if he told him, then perhaps it would make it easier for him to forgive that reaction.

When he got to the part of the rage demon, just before his rescue, he was aware that Anders had stopped pacing and was looking at him. He described everything that had happened before he finally saw Hawke, then fell quiet. The silence that ended his recitation drew on, and he finally looked up to see Anders scowling at him.

"You said...it punctured you, then he shocked you. And that's when your knees buckled." Fenris nodded, a little confused. "Well no bloody wonder you can't walk. Here, lay down on your stomach and don't get all tense at me. If you want to walk again and save all of us some grief, you'll do as I say."

And so he did, shifting so he could lay face down on the bed. He couldn't feel what the mage was doing, but he knew somehow that his legs were being lifted as well. The feeling of cold air on his back told him that Anders had lifted the shirt he was wearing and was prodding around his lower spine. "Was it around here...?" Fingers were prodding to the left of his spine and he shook his head.

"The other side." It was humiliating, but he let the healer do as he pleased, affirming it when he questioned it again. Then there was quiet, and he continued to lay there as he was poked and prodded at. He mentioned where he couldn't feel the touch and rested his head against his arms, and soon, though he felt the magic more than anything, Anders was trying to help him.

Despite their differences, he knew. More for the sake of everyone else than for himself. He wouldn't reject the help though, and closed his eyes as the cool magic flowed through him. It was different than Danarius's magic completely. Anders felt like a cool refreshing spring in the middle of summer, gentle and peaceful like the sound of a lute being played in a meadow to no one but the animals. Danarius's was entirely different. It felt like lava, raging through his veins, setting him on fire even as it melted him. It was agonizing and he much welcomed the feel of Anders to him.

"I think that's it for the day...here, sit up." A firm hand gripped his arm to turn him to sit straight again. "Now try to move your legs...at all." There was a frown on the healer's face and he had to quell the hope that rose up to clutch his throat as he tried to kick one leg out. It moved a little, then fell back. "Again." And again he tried., getting a similar reaction. But he was just happy to see his toes moving a bit. "Blast it all. I thought I'd gotten it. I'll have to do some reading tonight. Come back in the morning and I'm sure we'll get that settled for you."

"..thank you Anders." Not mage, not abomination, just Anders. Because now he truly deserved it. Even just the slight movement was enough.

"Well..don't try to stand on them just yet, and don't push it. I don't want you straining something that I have to fix later." He moved away and Fenris let out a soft sigh, gazing down at his feet and still looking at his toes as they moved just a little. He was trying to move his entire foot, but something was better than nothing.

Soon enough, he heard Sebastian coming back in and the sound of the two of them talking. He turned in time to see them sharing a kiss and quickly looked away again. It was none of his business what the two of them did when they were alone or in company that didn't care about their preferences, and he found himself almost happy that the mage had found someone and was going to stop obsessing over Hawke.

"Ready to go home?" There was a smile in Sebastian's voice and he nodded, shifting so he could be picked up easily.

"Like I told him..he needs to be here tomorrow morning...perhaps when you're done with your prayers you could bring him again?" Anders was holding the door for him already, and Fenris was sure he didn't like seeing the man holding him.

"Of course...and I might not have to carry him around after that, right Fenris?" There was a smile on his lips and he nodded in response. "Then we'll see you in the morning, Anders. And try to get some rest tonight?" There was no response, and apparently Sebastian wasn't expecting one as he left the building and made his way back into the cellar.

From his view over his shoulder, he could see Anders lighting the lantern and shook his head a little. He was starting to agree that he worked too hard, and for very little reward. He was quiet as they trekked the damp cellar back to Hawke's estate, and he heard a very quiet 'uh oh' from Sebastian when they got to the last staircase.

Raising his gaze, he saw Eorwyn standing there, arms folded over his broad chest. "...I'll explain it to you tomorrow Hawke. I promise."

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><p>"You'd better. I was having a fit looking for you in the cellar. I thought you'd fallen and gotten yourself hurt!" The 'worse' was implied and suddenly he was being transferred to Hawke's arms instead. "And you can go out the front door this time Sebastian." The humor was back in his voice and he leaned his head wearily against the broad shoulder. The man's mercurial moods were going to be the death of him, and he watched Sebastian picking up his chair to carry it upstairs. He was set back in it, with Hawke none the wiser of his slightly improved condition and he pushed away from them, a faint smile on his face. He heard the other two talking and relaxed as he pushed himself in front of a fire. Soon, his legs would be his own again, and he would surprise Hawke by walking in the very door that he was seeing Sebastian out of.<p>

The evening had passed better, according to routine, and like a good chantry brother, Sebastian showed up just after eight bells to take Fenris out. Once again, he managed to get out without telling Hawke, and the two of them deviated into Lowtown at Fenris's request. The archer looked a more than a little amused at Fenris's 'gift' for Anders, and was repeatedly told to shut up without even saying anything.

Soon enough they were in Darktown again, and this time, the chair had come with them. If what Anders was going to do worked, then he'd leave it here, just for some patients that might need it. He all but ordered Sebastian to stay outside with the present and he got a laugh as he pushed into the clinic and moved to sit by one of the beds. He could see Anders had noticed him already and he carefully shifted himself to the bed again. "Do you want me as I was yesterday then?"

"That would be ideal, yes." And still the mage continued with what he was doing as he squirmed into a position so he could work on him. He didn't even realize when he came closer until his shirt was flicked up again, causing him to shiver.

"Let's hope this is the last time you have to visit me for this," he heard him mutter, and he closed his eyes as magic flowed through him again. This time it was more centered, lingering around the area that was no doubt afflicted. It didn't travel as far up his spine or down his limbs, and he wondered if yesterday he'd been slightly unfocused. Either way, he was sure that Anders was trying his hardest to help him, and it only made his gift more worthwhile.

The muttering behind him didn't seem to stop, and it took him a few moments to realize that the mage was chanting under his breath as he worked on him. Tingles slowly spread through his lower extremities, as if they'd been asleep and were only just waking up and he fought the urge to try and move them to dispel the tingles. When the magic receeded, he glanced back and saw Anders sitting next to the bed and rubbing his eyes. "You didn't sleep, did you?"

"What? Nevermind that. Sit up and see if you can stand." A lump formed in his throat as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Anders only assisted him by shoving his legs down and making his feet touch the floor again and he hissed a little from the touch. "It..hurt?" There was a bewildered look to the mage's face with the question and Fenris shook his head.

"It is not pain. It feels as if...as if they have been at rest for too long and do not want to wake." There was an amused quirk to his lips as he took a breath and tried to push himself to his feet. He wobbled almost comically and gripped Anders's shoulder firmly to keep himself up.

Despite it feeling like there were thousands of needles being shoved in his legs, he felt like laughing. Then crying, and then possibly hugging the mage until he couldn't breathe. He settled for the first option, starting soft as he shuffled one foot forward a little. "You did it.." The sheer elation in his voice gave Anders enough reason to smile, and the taller human stood.

"And now I don't expect to see you until you cut your heel open again, got it?" There was even a smile on his face as Fenris took a few steps unaided, then bounced from his heels to his toes and back.

"Just a moment." Faster than he thought would have been possible, he moved to the door and took the small bundle that Sebastian was holding from him, smiling at the way he looked mildly surprised to see him moving upright again.

Going back to the mage, he held out what was a little ball of moving fluff. It uncurled slowly into a striped orange and white thing with four tiny pink feet and a little pink nose with two perky ears as it looked around the clinic. "I thought...you would like a companion." Any other time, he would have laughed at the way Anders' mouth was hanging open. Any other day he would have snapped at him to shut it and take the damn cat. But today, as the mage very gently took the kitten from his hands, all he could do was smile at the adoration that was obvious. "You could...consider him my payment."

His only answer was a nod and he was amused that the mage was nuzzling the kitten soon after. "I'll take my leave then...And Anders?" A soft hm was his only acknowledgement. "Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me."

And with his step light, he made his way out of the clinic and past Sebastian again. A quick glance back only confirmed that the rogue had gone inside and was locking the door shut again. The smile on his face scared away some Carta members that were thinking of going after him as he quickly moved to a lift that would take him to Hightown, and he all but ran back to the Hawke estate, delighting in the feel of cold stone beneath his feet. Even if it was stomething stupid to like, he'd missed it. Missed being able to feel the slight burn in his legs as the muscles were exerted.

Pulling open the door, he was greeted by a growling mabari that suddenly shut up, as if curious to see him walking again, and knelt down to hug him around the neck. "No hard feelings, I promise." His words were quiet in the dog's ear, and he was knocked over onto his back as the thick, wet tongue started slurping at his face. His laugher must have traveled into the house because soon Aether was being pulled off of him with a reproach that made the dog whine.

Looking up, he saw Hawke frowning at the dog for knocking him over and pushed himself up again before moving forward. The frown disappeared as his arms wound around the trim waist, and he heard the intake of breath as the rogue's mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing.

"Standing." A single word, then another, "Walking?" All he could do was laugh again, and he leaned up to give him a kiss, right on the doorstep where everyone could see them. He finally felt like he was home again, and for the moment, home was here, not in a drafty mansion that held ghosts of times past.


	10. Chapter 9

AN: This is is. The end. I want to thank you all for being faithful and lovely reviewers. It's a good thing I kept a chapter ahead in my writing because this one took a very long time to write, for some reason. Maybe it was just that I didn't have the right music to go along with it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it 3

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><p>It had been inevitable when he had walked back to the Hightown estate that he wouldn't stay there long. He'd gathered what little had been brought over, once again assured the mabari that he didn't blame him for anything, then left. Hawke hadn't said a word about his leaving, merely watched him with an unreadable expression. He wasn't sure if that was more unnerving than him begging him to stay. Still, he took it in stride and while he was walking away, glanced back to see those infuriatingly red eyes watching him. Even after all the time knowing him, he still had shivers run down his spine from them. Be it good or bad, he supposed it was at least a constant. He gave the other man a nod, then disappeared around a corner.<p>

He passed by the chantry, and with a cursory glance for Sebastian, continued up the stairs to 'his' mansion. As he pushed open the door, he didn't see the old signs of neglect that he had left behind. In fact, it seemed like someone had been in and tidied up. The skeleton that had been a macabre adornment directly under the stairs landing was even missing and he cautiously made his way upstairs. It wasn't that he expected a trap at all. After all, both Aveline and Varric had stayed behind it seemed, and they would have looked after it. But it never hurt to be wary.

That said, as he went into his bedroom, he noticed that the fire wasn't set. That meant they weren't watching him, personally, and his bed had even been made. And was that, perhaps, a new pillow? If he ever found out who had decided to clean up and give him something, he would have to thank them.

With that thought he paused, setting his small bundle down on one of the chairs. He was again a little baffled by his own behavior. Two weeks ago he would not have thought of going out of his way just to thank anyone. Even one week ago, he would have not thought of apologizing to a mage. As he blindly moved to get the fire going, he quietly wondered what had changed.

Had his time, however brief it was, with Danarius again changed him? No, he still hated the magister and all of his cronies, still despised mages... Well, perhaps not all mages. He still wasn't fond of Merrill and her blood magic, nor was he fond of Anders and his 'spirit'. But still, the man had helped him, both to remember and to walk again. Leaning against the mantle finally, he had to think that it might not have been the time with Danarius, but the time immediately after that had altered his attitude so much.

Merrill hadn't changed much toward him, but the way Anders had treated him had, at least briefly. He knew at least, that whatever he had done had stopped his markings from hurting right off, and the man had shown nothing but kindness to him, at least before he had punched him. He couldn't even really blame him for the headache he'd had for his efforts. In fact, it was almost understandable that he would have had one, considering it was a rush of things coming back to him.

And the elation that he'd seen on his face when he'd given him the kitten led him to believe that perhaps he might have assumed wrong about him, at least to a degree. He was still an abomination, that remained even if he chose to not be quite as abrasive toward him.

Shaking his head a little, he turned from the fire to go to the bed and turn down the blankets for a little later. He had to go and see an armorer to get something new made for himself, and that was the first thing he would do. At least he didn't have to get a new sword. So, as the fire warmed the room, he left the mansion again, heading for the market.

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><p>Hawke watched Fenris leave, face schooled into a mask of indifference. He hadn't been prepared for him to stand up after Aether had him on the ground, nor had he been prepared for the kiss that had been laid on him. In some ways, he was still in shock from both facts, and it was only when Fenris left his sight that he stepped back, closed the door, and simply leaned against it. At least he knew that all the times that he was in bed with him, it hadn't been simply because he was forced to be. He'd probably wanted to be there.<p>

And yet, he hadn't stopped him from gathering the small bit of clothing that they'd brought over for him, nor had he asked him to stay. He was going to miss having the elf there, even just in the estate. Spending time with him had become a regular occurrence, and he'd taken some time to actually work on the reading lessons he'd promised him.

Heaving a sigh, his feet moved before he realized it and soon he was sitting on the ledge of one of the upstairs windows and blindly looking out over Hightown. His eyes only focused again when he saw Fenris once again, walking the opposite direction with a sense of purpose to his stride. For once, he wasn't slouched over at all, and he wondered if it was the weight of the blade that made him hunch over a little.

Shaking his head, he made himself leave the window to go and answer the correspondence that he'd been neglecting since having Fenris in his home. "Champion, please come here and court my daughter" or "Please grace us with your attendance" were just a couple of the letters, but then again, the same thing was repeated several times over. Throw in the odd "Where were you" for the past two weeks where he'd done nothing but obsess over Fenris, and you had a pile of mail that was both hopeful and angry that would take hours.

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><p>Forget hours, the damn mail took him three entire days to get through. Mostly because he wanted to tear his hair out at some of his neighbors' pleas then accusations of him avoiding people. There were times he hated being the champion for all the dreaded people, and as he found his blades again and strapped them to his back. He needed to get out, and preferably to somewhere that no one would find him. That didn't necessarily mean out of Kirkwall, and as he pulled himself out of the window in his room, he neatly scaled the wall using the ivy trestle. No one would look for him on the roofs, surely.<p>

Dusting off his hands when he finally got to the roof, he looked around, then backed away from the edge to take a running leap to another roof. There was one roof in particular that no one would look for him on, mostly because half of it was falling in. And heaven forbid he do something dangerous like prance around on a roof like that.

He skidded to a stop on the roof in question, stopping just short of a hole in the roof. He had a nice view of many of the Hightown mansions from here and as he lightly leapt over the hole, he pulled both blades from his back to start a dance that was both graceful and deadly. His feet slid against loosened roofing and stones, and he mused that if Fenris was indeed inside, he would hear him. But he didn't think he would be. He hadn't seen him since the day he'd watched him head back for the downtown area of Hightown, so he doubted he'd be in today either.

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><p>At first, Fenris brushed off the sound of something above his head as a bird or some other small mammal skittering on the roof. As he turned the page of "A Slave's Life" though, he heard it again. It sounded like something or someone was deliberately moving around up there. Frowning just a bit, he ignored it for the second time, then the shuffling continued in several quick scrapes. Now it was just enough to make him stand up and mark his page.<p>

Moving away from the table that served both as a desk and dining area, he went to the window to see if he could see anything. There was a quick flash of something on the neighboring building, and his eyes narrowed. That was a sure sign of the sun shining off of metal, and as he saw it again, he moved away from the window and toward the hall. There was a ladder that he could pull down and get into the crawlspace between the roof and the rest of the house, and it was where he often put things to catch the rainwater when it came in.

As he reached the top of the ladder and looked into the crawlspace, he jerked backward at a loud noise that accompanied the splintered wood mere inches from his face. He rocked precariously on the ladder and shot his hand out to grab the boot that was just suddenly through his roof, only vaguely hearing the shout of surprise that came from above him. A very familiar shout indeed, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he regained his balance and released the booted foot.

Soon enough, vibrant eyes were staring through the hole and he waggled his fingers in a hello. "You could try coming in the front door you know."

"But then how would you ever get an interesting greeting?" No matter what happened, the joking voice always made him smile.

"Well normally, an interesting greeting would constitute something face to face, not a foot in my face." He leaned more against the ladder, one brow raised.

"Yes well... ... Would you like me to come in then? I could be inside in just a second. Did you know there's a hole large enough for me to fit through?"

"...no, I did not. And I would prefer it if you didn't come in through my roof." Green eyes skimmed over the crawlspace, and he saw the spot Hawke was talking about. It was indeed large enough for a man of Hawke's size to fit through, and he wondered why he hadn't noticed it before.

"Finefine...I'll be in your room in just a moment." The face disappeared from the hole before he had a chance to respond, and he heard another scuffling as he went down the ladder and put it up, latching it firmly. He'd have to get that taken care of.

Shaking his head a little, he left the ladder to go to the landing to wait for the man to come in the front door, and jumped almost a foot in the air as arms slid around his waist from behind.

"I told you, I'd be in your room, not at the door," the teasing voice was merely a breath in his ear and it sent shivers up his spine.

"So...you did," he managed, fighting to not lean back into his arms. It was a fight he lost as he felt Hawke's teeth nibble, very gently, along the lobe of his ear, though he managed to not moan at the feeling like he so wanted to. He blindly followed him as Hawke shuffled them both backward and up the small flight of stairs leading to his room.

Those lips were slowly running along his ear toward the tip, and a small shudder ran through him as it was lightly sucked on. Apparently, over the course of two and a half years, Hawke hadn't forgotten how to make him want him. He was dimly aware of the firelight as they went into the next room, but he couldn't bring himself to care that they'd finally stopped moving as fingers lifted to lightly skim along his throat. A feather light touch followed the curve of lyrium that ran just behind his ear and down under his collar, pushing the supple leather back. "Hawke..."

"Mm...?" Lips were now following the path of the lyrium, and Fenris finally lifted a hand to tangle it in his hair to try and halt his procession.

"Perhaps...a drink..?" Anything that would get that mind-numbing tongue, his TONGUE, away from his skin now.

"I think I'm fine without," the other man whispered, and warm breath blew over cooling skin to make him shiver.

Shifting a little, he tried to turn in the rogue's arm, hoping that seeing his face would help his resolve to pull away. Yet, it only made it worse. The band of steel tightened around his waist and his other free hand pulled open the leather at his throat. He didn't have time to question why as Hawke dipped his head to nibble along the sensitive lyrium lines that ran over his collarbone. This time, the moan escaped him, and his arms lifted, not to push him away, but to clutch at him instead. He felt the soft chuckle against his skin more than he heard it and gave up trying to fight him.

There was no point to it really. He wanted Hawke just as badly as he had the first time they were together, perhaps more now. He was aware of a brief lack of touch before he was being kissed, and he leaned into the human just a little as he almost desperately returned it. This had been one thing Danarius hadn't thought to ruin for him. As their tongues slid against each other, he heard the other man groan, and felt his hips being tugged closer to press them firmly together. Briefly, he wondered if this had been Hawke's intent the entire time when he'd come to play on his roof, and his fingers shifted from his lower back to take the large, twin blades off of him and toss them to the side. The thud of them hitting the floor only made the human pause for a moment, then his attention turned once again to the lyrium lines.

If anyone had told him that the brands that had once caused him so much pain would be an infinite source of pleasure, they would have been treated to a fist in their chest. But that had changed now. As soft lips, teeth, and a moist tongue traced the lines on his neck, he slowly reached a hand to pull at the jerkin Hawke was wearing to attempt to get it off. He'd barely had any of his own clothing moved at all, and he was already throbbing with desire. The only time he'd felt similarly was when they'd been together the first time, and he ruthlessly shoved the result of that encounter to the back of his mind. He didn't want to have a repeat of it, and as his hands touched hot skin, he managed to forget all but what he was feeling, for at least a little bit.

Fur-lined leather soon hit the floor, and Fenris greedily ran his hands over the exposed and faintly scarred flesh. Every line was his, it seemed, and he shifted just enough to make Hawke stop attacking him so he could taste the slightly salty flesh he'd just revealed. He traced his tongue over a line of raised flesh on his shoulder, hands skimming over the rogue's ribs. He was vaguely aware of the fastenings of his top being pulled apart, but it wasn't until he felt hands smoothing over his stomach and sides that he pulled away and turned his back on him, clutching the fabric together in the front.

"...Fenris?" The concern in Hawke's voice was obvious and he flinched at the touch to his shoulder. "...What's wrong?"

"I... I am sorry." Gripping the fabric tight, his head dropped and he could see the slightly brighter lines of lyrium tracing his stomach before he covered it again. They were disgusting, marring his flesh further. Hawke had once told him that it didn't matter, that every line only served to make him want him more. But this? This revolting display? Not even Hawke could appreciate it. He was startled as arms slid around him again and pulled the fabric tighter. Large hands covered his own and gently pried them from their clenched hold on the soft leather.

"Don't be ashamed Fenris...don't you remember? You were once, and I showed you why you shouldn't be. Let me show you again." His voice was soft, alluring, compelling even, and he wanted to listen to him, to believe everything he was saying. Even so, he leaned over to keep him from seeing the swirling marks.

"It's hideous," he said quietly, eyes closed. He was sure the other man would agree with him and he resisted as Hawke tried to turn him around.

"It's a part of you now, and nothing that is a part of you could be." Hands left his and moved to pull his top down and off his shoulders, lips following one line of lyrium that intersected with the new ones on his back. "I'll prove that to you if you'll only let me."

The words were only a whisper against his skin, but they seemed to resonate through the lyrium and made him shiver again. "Hawke..."

"What have I told you about using my given name, hm..?" He was spun neatly around before he could even respond, and the leather shirt was dropped to the floor before he could clutch onto it like a lifeline again. He wasn't even given a chance to try to hide by pressing up against him as Hawke dropped to one knee and pressed lips against his stomach, deliberately licking along the lyrium to show that he didn't mind it.

"Eorwyn..." He pushed a hand into the other man's hair to grip it gently, unable to control the faint tremble that ran through him as his lips followed the curving lines straight down to his waistband. His hand tightened a little as callused fingers hooked there and dragged it down just the bare hint. Red eyes met his own and he shook his head the faintest bit.

As if it were a challenge though, those devilish lips quirked up at the corners, and soon the leggings were down to his knees. He averted his eyes, not wanting to see if he was horrified by perhaps the most painful of the lines. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire next to them, the only thing he felt was the warmth of his hands on the backs of his thighs to hold him in place and keep him from running.

Then all he knew was wet heat as a tongue dragged up one line, then down the other. His knees threatened to buckle, and his mouth opened with a soft whimper. He heard the other chuckle, then his length was being enveloped in an inferno. He lifted a hand to clutch at the mantle, the other pulling, most likely painfully, at the other's hair.

And yet Hawke didn't say a word about it, simply continued laving him with attention, tongue deliberately following along those lines. It was unlike anything he'd felt. The sheer pleasure of being catered to and given pleasure was all but driving him mad slowly, and the addition of the lyrium that was continually being stimulated was causing his body to resonate. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that he was enveloped in a blue glow, and as much as that fact embarrassed him, he knew that Hawke liked to see him like that.

Too soon, the heat was gone, leaving him shivering and swaying just a little. Hands smoothed down his calves and took the leggings with them. Releasing his grip on the human's hair and leaning a bit more on the mantle, he lifted his feet to get them off, trying to not react as each one was caught and had a kiss pressed to the trio of dots that marked the top of them. He couldn't quite help the way his toes curled at the simple gesture though, and when Hawke rose to standing again, he was able to meet his eyes again, with no fear that the scars would turn him away.

Lifting his hand, he smoothed it along the rogue's cheek lightly, feeling the stubble from a day with no shaving before he was pulled gently from the fire and to the bed. Twisting around the human, he sat down first, leaning down to pull at the ties on his boots nimbly so they could be taken off. He heard a vague murmur telling him that he didn't have to do it, but he didn't care. If he didn't, the man would probably end up in bed with his pants still firmly around his hips but open, and his boots leaving dirty marks on the end of the comforter. To make his waiting seem less, he deliberately lifted his head and nuzzled the firm bulge that he was seated directly in front of, taking delight in the sharp intake of breath. Apparently he wasn't the only one that would be happy without clothing between them at that very moment, and when he lifted his hands to his breeches to yank them down, he glanced up and received a smirk that only encouraged him further.

And then the proof was bold and beautiful, right in front of him. Licking his lips, he was dimly aware of Hawke shedding the clothing by kicking it off, then he leaned forward, tongue coming out to lick away the pre-cum that was lingering on the tip. He hadn't had to do much to get him fully erect and he gently closed his hand around the base of his cock as he swirled his tongue around the head before sinking lower. This was another thing that remained unspoiled, and he enjoyed the motion of sinking down until he met his hand and drawing back, lips tight around the shaft.

He heard a soft moan and felt a hand slide gently through his hair to tell him he was doing a good job, and he 'hmm'-ed softly as he moved, sending soft vibrations along his length. One large hand slid down the back of his neck, sliding along white lines, causing him to shiver a little and lean in just a little closer to the other male as he sucked on him, enjoying the touches and the feel of his hips moving, ever so slightly in a thrusting motion. It didn't take long before a hand slid around his jaw to lift him off, and he licked his lips as he gazed upward, deciding to just revel in the man before him and not think about his own failings.

"If you keep on like that, I won't last long enough to make you feel good." His voice was rough with desire and caused a shiver to run up Fenris's spine. Knowing exactly what he meant though, he shifted backward on the bed. He didn't care if they didn't have the oil like they would usually use, and actually anticipated the burn of it. Nothing would serve to better erase the memory of Danarius's touch from his flesh.

"Then what are you waiting for..?" His own voice was husky, though not surprisingly so. His eyes darkened a little as Hawke bent to kneel on the bed, leaning over him and kissing him once again. Lifting one hand to slide around the back of his shoulders, he shifted his legs apart as Hawke's hand delved between them, first to stroke him lightly, then moving lower to prepare him. It was another welcome change, and as warm lips left his own, he didn't hold back the moan that was building his throat.

No time was wasted as he was stretched with two fingers to start with, and when he willingly pushed back against them, a third was pressed in with them. That was when the ache started, and he couldn't help but tense just a little. Words were murmured softly in his ear until he relaxed again, in no small part thanks to the soft kisses that were traveling the sensitive flesh.

The wanton sound that left him when the fingers were removed surprised him, but it was easily cut off as Hawke moved between his legs himself, using one hand to guide himself inward. Once again, there was pain, but it was of a different sort than he'd felt before, and his hips lifted to receive more of it. It was the sort of pain that he wanted more of, because he'd feel it tomorrow in a delicious ache.

As Hawke settled fully inside of him, a hand brushed at his unruly fringe to get it out of his eyes, and he knew that the human was waiting for some sign from him that he could move. At the same time he turned his face to kiss his palm, he bent his knees up, rocking his hips enough to make him move himself. That was enough, and Hawke moved finally, rocking his hips in shallowly at first. When Fenris met them by rocking up as well, they grew longer and a bit faster. He knew that he was still holding back for fear of hurting him and curled one hand in the sheets while the other held onto his shoulder.

A softly whispered, "more..." was more than enough to make him move with abandon. Deep, hard thrusts shook him to his core, and he lifted off the bed a little each time to make sure he could feel every inch of the other male. Strong fingers were soon closing around him to stroke him roughly, and a soft whimper left him. Hawke already knew that just the act of sex itself was more than enough, but to add that to it was akin to driving him mad. Blunted fingernails dragged along his back, leaving red lines behind. His mouth opened with a soundless moan, and somehow, he knew that the other man was watching every twitch he made delightedly, a fact that added color to his cheeks. This was one of the few times he couldn't control himself, and Hawke knew it. And he loved to see him lose all semblance of control and just react.

The pressure was building him in though, and he knew that he wouldn't last long at all. Digging his fingers into Hawke's back, he tried to tell him without words. The nibble on his neck more than told him he was understood, and the fact that it was on the lyrium made the markings light up dully in response.

All thoughts fled from his mind as the damn holding the pressure burst, and all he could see was stars. Dimly, he was aware of hand closing over his own, and it took what limited thought process he had left to turn his hand to grip it tightly, and he heard the groan as Hawke reached his own culmination, filling him with a hot, liquid warmth.

As the rogue shifted to the side, the sole word in Fenris's mind was 'clean.' He hadn't felt that way since, well, a long time ago. He'd spent hours in the bath just the night before, scrubbing until his browned skin had turned pink from his efforts and the lyrium had stood out in a stark white contrast. And even then he hadn't felt clean. Somehow, now, even with Hawke gathering him close and ribbons of sticky semen covering his chest and belly, he felt clean.

And he understood why. He couldn't explain it, how Danarius's touch had lingered with him until that perfect moment when it all fell away. How Hawke's had replaced it and still burned his skin with a pleasant inferno. Lips found his own in a somewhat breathless and altogether lazy kiss, and he shifted just a little closer before tucking his head down against the man's shoulder and closing his eyes. He was far from tired, but he'd take whatever comfort that was offered.

* * *

><p>It seemed like hours had passed as they laid together quietly, only occasionally kissing. The constant had been the firm stroke of his hand over the dusky skin of his back, and the occasional stopping to trace a line he could only feel. It had amused him, each time, to have Fenris turn his face against his shoulder.<p>

When the elf had claimed a desire to clean up, he'd reluctantly let him go and moved to get up himself. He'd watched as he'd picked up the clothing and almost self-conciously bundled it in front of himself and only smiled as he slipped out of the room. Rising from the bed, he pulled on his pants and jerkin roughly, a rarely used scowl touching his lips.

Danarius would try to take him again; there was no doubt about that. And he would be there when he showed his ugly, wrinkled face again. As he picked up the two blades from where Fenris had unceremoniously dropped them, he smiled maliciously. Spinning them into place, he knew what he would do if he met him and they were alone. He'd slice him from throat to groin. Then he'd feed him healing potions and force him to eat his own entrails. Perhaps that was a bit sadistic, but he thought that the magister had it due.

Then again, if Fenris were with him, he'd rather let him remove his heart and slowly crush it for Danarius to see. It would be fitting justice. Even Anders might enjoy watching that. A soft scuff turned his smile into something more gentle and he turned to see Fenris with a tray. A wine bottle was in the center, with two glasses, no doubt new as well, on either side. Moving over to the table, he offered the elf a hand in opening the bottle at least.

"I...wanted to thank you." The voice was soft and deep, and still made his toes curl.

"What for..?" Curiosity would kill him one day, he was sure of it, and he didn't miss the way Fenris's eyes flicked toward him.

"For..this. For everything." Somehow, he knew that he wasn't going to elaborate on that and, lifting a hand, he ruffled Fenris's hair up. It earned him a swat before he was offered wine.

"Anytime. No matter what." The hint of steel in his voice earned him a searching look as he took the glass from him, and his easy smile returned at the nod he was given.

He made up his mind then. Kirkwall could call him a champion all they wanted. The only one he was actively going to play that roll for was for Fenris however. No matter when he wanted it. Even if the elf's pride stood in the way of asking for help, he'd be there to either push or pull him through whatever obstacle stood in the way.

"Well since we didn't properly celebrate...here's to you." Once again, he was silently questioned. "For your fifth anniversary," he explained, and he delighted in the rich chuckle that escaped the elf.

As long as he could continue to make him laugh like that, he was sure that things would be fine between them. Even if it took even longer to make him sleep with him again, he would happily wait. Just being at his side was enough.

* * *

><p>The end. Seems so final. Well, that's that. ^^ Sorry there isn't a resolution on the Danarius front, but I wanted it to be set in-between Acts, so I can't exactly kill him and have it work out properly. :3<p> 


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